#and it is made more painful because Astral has learned how to live thanks to Yuma and Yuma has got more attached to Astral day after day

[astralhope]

- I understand how you feel, Yuma... and I don't want you to accept it. -

Rank 55: Yuma Jets!!

[chronichlesofnillory]

Hello, how are you doing?

3 9 and 4 for the ask game?

Hello! Thank you so much for the ask /genuine.

3) Tell me about an insect native to your region, especially if you work with them.

So I'm someone who actually lives in an area where every year we get cicadas. I'm not in the area getting the two special ones that are coming up for the first time in 250 years or whatever, but every summer I've lived here I've heard them. I remember the first summer I was living here I found one of their molts? skins? whatever and thought it was a fairy lol. Cicadas are great for renewal energy. (Bonus is that for the past two years there's a special butterfly that comes out in the summer and I always see it as a message from my cat that passed on because the day after he suddenly passed I cried out loud that I needed to know he was okay, and I saw one of those butterflies flying around just about to head to the yard next door and I said to myself that if the butterfly came back it meant my cat was okay. Instead it came back and settled on my hand and let me touch it.)

4) Do you attempt to localize your practice? If so, especially if you’re living on colonized land, has that proven difficult?

So a lot of my practice isn't based around herbs tbh so whereas someone might be more likely to use a local herb instead of one from an old grimoire I don't really do a lot of that. But I tend to base my seasons on the geese that come here seasonally-- for the 8 years I've lived in this house the geese are the best indicators of spring/fall. I've only been really in my active magic bag for like 2.5 years and I'm already a stubborn person set in my ways, so picking up the wheel of the year hasn't ever really appealed to me.

As far as decolonization etc I have read a few books on the different indigenous nations that lived on this land. I live in a bit of a cultural crossroads for several indigenous nations as well as between the "north" and the "south". It's left the land with a lot of interesting spirits and I do try to spend time learning about the spirits indigenous to the land here and learning more about the stories from these Indigenous nations has made me confident that I'm getting a bit of (bit bit bit) of a grasp on some of these spirits specific to where I am.

9) Do you find sensory engagement or deprivation more helpful in your magic?

Both? I've spent the past couple months bouncing between reading about Traditional Witchcraft and Chaos Magic and it's been interesting to see how the two traditions approach "gnosis" or "treading the mill" kind of getting to that point where you get to something else. I find myself using sensory engagement in energy work more-- like if I'm using the energy of a song to help smooth the energy of my chronic pain I have to let my whole body feel the energy of the song. To listen to the music or to feel the vibrations of my singing and move ecstatically. But if I'm trying to astral travel/spirit flight I will sort of do a sensory overload and purge before I slowly wind down to deprivation. (hyperventilation, singing, letting my thoughts and imagery go wild--then slow the breathing and I find my thoughts following the calm, the imagery calms to almost nothing or just one single thing.)

This was fun! Thank you very much and I hope you're having a good week

[eroticaethica]

Hello to anyone who finds me. To be real I am just utilizing what has been an abandoned account to digest my thoughts and emotions. I feel the need to regain my creativity without a face, but with words. Maybe some of my thoughts, esays, and even poetry can move someone searching their way.

At 30 years old I never would have thought I would ever have a child. In fact it wasn’t because of not wanting. To some degree as I was younger I had a relief of the thought thank goodness I can’t. Till I became married and feel in love with life again. Now I am 6 weeks pregnant and hoping the pregnancy can last. I’ve had many complications this year. I’ve been in and out of the hospitals, and working on my mental health to rebuild myself from past trauma.

Of course I can say I would be more than happy to be a parent. I still fear the worst. I fear the worst of the world we live in. I fear the worst for the times I feel depressed and hopeless. I fear I am not the only one suffering in this world. Yet, pain has taught me a lot about life. That even in the worst feeling imaginable living life is beauty.

I use to love the idea of death years ago. It is not a thing I fear. However; I’ve learned in my own spiritual journey that It is not my time till it is. My past is filled with a lot of emotions and pain. Yet, happiness always came around every corner of times I thought “I’m never gonna make it out of this.”

In fact the things I had to deal with past few months made me understand I’m here to live. Much like the words of Anakin to Asoko. Live or die. Your choice. The reference is cringy but it was a reference I felt very deeply when working further in my path.

I am a pagan. In some regards I don’t slap a label on my practice. However I have came to love the infernal divine and of the left hand path. Much of my love comes from ancient civilizations of the old. My practice is very much been devoted to the gods of Greek and Egyptian mythology.

I furthered my understanding as I grew to the ancient Mesopotamian mythologies of the old. I feel this was where every amount of inspiration unfolded and began. From the trade with the Phoenicians and the Canaanites, to old stories by Plato of the Egyptians speaking of their existence and how inspiration folded from the lost city of Atlantis.

I feel as if I am just a spark searching for my divine place. Where did I come from? Who am I really at my core? From my own experiences of religious trauma from my childhood I always tried to deeply understand this strange world. Why are we taught from days of young there is only one god. Yet years before the same stories were of many. Many of the stories of the same just re-written to fit a political agenda. It definitely would seem Christianity tries to speak of being the oldest ways, yet it seems to be one of the earliest ways of religion ever written. My inner self always said no this isn’t the only way.

I always feel this deep dark memory surfacing of lives I think I’ve been in and all the times my spark of my soul felt alive, and in the times I meet death.With my feet cold on the stone floor and my body lifeless. It was just a dream I say. I move on with the life I have now. In that life I suppose it was only meaningless to know. Yet, I want to know more no matter where I am. From even learning new skills, to learning a new lesson. I am indeed a student of this life perceiving it in my eyes and feeling every experience through my body.

The beauty of magic has taught me the power of the soul. The power of the spirits. The power of the gods. The power of the earth. Even now me writing sick as a dog I can still feel the sensation of the times I feel the earth beneath my feet. The energy the earth provides to ground is a feeling you never forget when you reach that state of altered consciousness.

The feeling where everything exists and doesn’t all at once. Yet, nothing can compare to the magic of the astral. How powerful astral work can begin the journey of knowing liminal spaces. It is true we all can alter ourselves to exist in spaces of energy to utilize.

No matter what I feel like if I make it out of this life with a little one.. I would teach them as much as I know when the day comes. To learn and to grow. To fail then achieve. To love and to grow. I want them to know a life where they are loved. I hope if my little one survives to make it to the world that I can give them everything they will always need as a mother.

It’s been a very complicated start to my pregnancy. I’ve been told it’s very early to know. I’ve been through some very rough changes within. Yet, I will not give up hope. I just hope you who reads this knows that no matter what you go through. No matter how painful life is. You continue to keep hope. Even if the worst is the outcome. If I miscarry, or if whatever horrible issue you fear happens.. Know it will be ok. Pain is to come.

Things happen that we don’t want to. Things happen that doesn’t make sense. Good people suffer while horrible people reign. It seems to be a perception I see from time to time. Yet, know you are alive. You and the spark you have inside will always matter. No one can ever take that away from you.

No matter what stay vigilant, and don’t be scared to stand up for yourself. People will always come and go out of your life. The ones that will always matter will always stay. If you loose someone you love. Know they are always around you. The spirits are always around you. You are not alone in life. Nor are you being punished. You are simply not listening to what is around.

The more you let yourself feel and hear what’s around you, the more you will know you’re not alone. You are supported. Even when you are wrong in life. If you make mistakes. You learn from them. You grow from them. You know around you is all the guidance you could ever truly need.

Stay focused on what interests you. On what keeps you feeling yourself stand alone as who you are. Create. Write, blog, make videos. Anything speak your truth. The world always needs you and what you do.

Keep pushing! ❤️

Praise be the light of truth

[futzingbarton]

putting some thoughts under a cut because big ol spoilers (act 3, dream visitor, that kind of thing.)

this is all in incredible contrast to the Emperor’s manipulation of you, imo. that guy got me hook, line, and sinker, played me entirely like a damned fiddle. granted it isn’t until act 3 that you can start putting together more and more as to why you might have reason to distrust him, aside from the whole...illithid...thing. 

every interaction with the Emperor/Dream Visitor had me reeling. i knew that taking anything he said at face value was a bad idea, i knew that he was playing on Tav’s fear and compassion for others and desire to just live through it all. but despite that it was presented so (supposedly) earnestly, so genuinely, that it was hard not to buy into it. some part of me always knew that there was more beneath the surface there, that there was something sour hidden underneath a veil of compassion. 

and what i think it is is that he is so good at giving you JUST ENOUGH of his own selfishness that you believe him about the rest. he is always incredibly clear and present with his requests for you to use the tadpole and further your powers. he presents information to you remarkably frequently. he just doesn’t present the whole picture. he gives you just enough to hang yourself with. he tells you about Stelmane enough in a way to pity him and to feel compassion about this lost last relationship--and to feel special that he is experiencing it again with someone like you. you have to genuinely dig and poke and pry to find out the truth--to discover her enthrallment, to discover how he immediately threw aside Ansur when it didn’t suit his needs. 

contrary to Astarion, the Emperor is a master manipulator. the only basis for distrust is ‘why would i trust an illithid’ which, while totally valid, isn’t an option i chose considering my Tav’s the kind of person who isn’t going to dismiss anyone out of hand based on presuppositions or race--because if they did, they wouldn’t have listened to Omeluum either. 

Astarion is scrambling to re-learn a lot of things about how interactions and power grabs in social situations work. He seduced and plied his way from people like Sebastian who’d never been kissed--people he felt genuine care and guilt about--to people who were just easy to get with a pretty face and a set script. with Tav he’s operating entirely out of that usual setup and approach and is relying on old techniques out of desperation! it’s so fun and fascinating to see and is some really stellar writing and what made my fellow charlatan Tav just smile to herself the entire time. 

on the one hand, with Astarion’s manipulation, you get to see into this underlying damage and trauma and pain, it’s so heavy handed that you can see the attempt at wresting some kind of control, and that provides insight as to his motivations for trying to worm his way (hah) into your good graces. on the other, with the Emperor’s, everything you ‘see’ underneath what he tells you--his sadness about Stelmane and Ansur, his desire to ‘protect’ you--is all a means to an end. i genuinely do not think the Emperor--Balduran--has any care for you outside of what you can do for him and his goals. even when you get his hideout! even when you do not press him for info about Stelmane to see how he controlled her! he’s like ‘hey look at all this--i had a dog, i liked soup, i also got a sword on my first paycheck’ like he’s going through a fucking checklist of relatability. UGH. i felt such genuine...idk. disgust. betrayal. reading his note to Ansur, contrasting how Ansur talks to him. the fact that he just calls Ansur his friend! because nothing else meant anything to him! 

the only reason my Tav hadn’t dealt with the Astral Tadpole yet is because the seed of doubt was planted upon seeing Orpheus, and thank goodness for that, because the horror of seeing all of this painted as it really was after that, and knowing you’d given up yourself for it, would have fucked me up even moooooooore. 

There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.

I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.

First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).

But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.

"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."

(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)

However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.

No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."

See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.

It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.

And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.

He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.

So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.

This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."

If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.

Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.

He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.

All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.

God tier characterization, 10/10.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Weird Q's: 15, 16, 17!

((weird questions for writers: send some in :O!))

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I don't write in the margins and I don't read in the bath, but I do dog-ear my pages if I own the book! Mainly bc I find something to use as a bookmark sldfsdf. I wouldn't say I judge ppl who do the other two tho! It's just a matter of preference Ig sldfsdf. Friends 🤝

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Opened ketchup packet (empty, thankfully!) 😔 I didn't realize until I threw my bookmark in the trash that I had switched them up somehow sldfksdf. Luckily, there were minimal ketchup damages!

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I have so many wips but the one I'm gonna be referring to in this one is one where Kravitz is training Lup and Barry to be reapers, while slowly uncovering his past and learning how to live again, instead of just exist.

I have so much Kravitz lore. Like a wild amount of Kravitz lore. The main one is that he's the only reaper (before Lup and Barry) and one of the only personal helpers for any of the gods. I personally see the gods in this universe taking on a much more distanced role, so they try not to interact with their followers too much. But if they need to, they'll step in. Kravitz wasn't a devout follower in life, but the circumstances of his death made it impossible for him to go into the sea like a normal soul would, so the Raven Queen was just kinda like "ok ur my son now!"

I also imagine that being a reaper is uncomfortable. You can't exist in the astral plane unless you're already dead, but the Raven Queen wouldn't defy her own laws of sending a dead person back into the living planes. Therefore reapers are sort of an in-between. The Raven Queen starts his heart back up again when he's on bounties and then stops it when he goes back to the astral plane. This is why Kravitz can take damage and stuff, bc he's technically alive, just not like anyone else would be. The Raven Queen, quite literally, is his lifeline.

Because of how uncomfortable that all is, Kravitz often spends a lot of time in the astral plane. It takes Taako and everyone to convince him that maybe he should come out a little more. It's not the being alive that's painful, it's the crossing between planes. Though (and I think this will be included) the Raven Queen is not vv happy with him at first for spending so much time "living". Kravitz being torn between the goddess that literally keeps him alive vs the love of his life and his family makes for a vv juicy plot, thank u

Kravitz also has an in with the other gods/goddesses, if only because they convinced the Raven Queen that Kravitz at least was human and he does need to socialize. But it's so jarring and fun for him to discover the difference between socializing with gods and socializing with the birds (who are kinda gods in their own right? but i digress sdlfsd)

I could literally go on about this for ages, but i'll spare u for that sldfsdf

[aaetherius]

@shiningstages​ asked: 

“ i am alive and some days i think that must be enough for me ” ( from prunella, because feeling things is very nice but also potentially angst )

Poetry Prompts || Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!

                                                             ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

   He tilts his chin downwards, gazing at the flawless, scab-free skin of his palms as he inhales against the scent of warm coffee, fresh tea, and columbines. His chest expands softly with the motion behind the armor he wears, and the pearly plumes that cover his wings dip against the stone and soil nestled around the quiet bench where they’re seated. The hustle and bustle of the town sings in the distance - the sound of calm footsteps and idle chatter as Skydwellers go about their day; the crew amongst them as they tackle the shopping list the Singularity had written up for them, or enjoy this brief moment of rest between missions by visiting local attractions. The two of them among the group, though having parted from them for the time being - the crowded nature of the marketplace a bit much for the both of them with Sandalphon and Amethyst both away on errands of their own. The cafe they’ve found themselves at is a small, family-owned one that is quiet, and with only a handful of other customers sat at the other outdoor tables around them. The polished wood beneath his knuckles is worn, and shows its age - there is water damage on the sides where the cream colored parasol bolted upright to the center fails to cover the entire thing. The legs of the chairs they sit on are uneven, and if his wings shift too much they screech, but the cafe itself has a peaceful air to it. It feels lived in, and well-loved. The sign on the door is covered in paint that has chipped with age, and the wooden panels of the building have speckles of moss growing on them. It suits the elderly woman who runs it - her cheeks filled with wrinkles from the countless smiles she’s given in her life, and she shuffles about with a soft hum as she unhurriedly serves those who cam in after them. Her gray hair pulled up into a bun with a flower sticking out of it, and her dress is much too long for her stature - the hem drags on the ground, but she never manages to stumble over it. He can tell the coffee and tea she had made for them was filled with passion for the art of brewing, and it had a delightful taste, even if he had only had about half of it thus far.  

      It’s not unlike the one he had pictured running or helping to run in his selfish dreams of the future. A wish he’s hold onto for thousands of years, and only just recently expressed. One day, perhaps, he might be like her - someone filled with a deep love for everything they do; someone capable of wearing a smile on their face through the many years they’ve endured, and someone living the life they’ve been given to its fullest. He admires her, strange as it might be for someone such as himself. He has little doubt she’s faced her own set of hardships in this life, but she’s content now; she radiates happiness in a manner that’s rare, even amongst Skydwellers. Right now, he’s not certain he’ll ever be like her. There are days when he believes he can be. When the sun is bright within the crystal blue skies he had watched over for millennia, and he’s woken up to the gentle sway of the ship with his wings folded nearly over Sandalphon; when he takes too long to get up in the morning because he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of the bed, and gives nonsensical excuses as to why he can’t move. When the night before is peaceful and quiet, and he’s slept more in a single day than he had in his entire existence until then. When the only thing that drags them out of that bed is the Singularity thrusting open the door, and pestering them until they’re making coffee in the cafe or he’s running mundane, household chores for them. Days when the world seems still, and nothing aches. There are other days, like today, where he doesn’t believe he can be anything like the elderly cafe owner who greets everyone with a sincere smile, and sits with the customers who come in alone to offer them compassionate words along with some company. When he had awaken in the middle of the night to the sound of banging windows and long shadows dancing across the walls. Where he had not slept, and the rims of his eyes are red from distress and concern. Days when he steps out of bed with a pained wince that he hides well from years of keeping his emotions caged within his heart, because the aches from wounds that no longer paint this new body of him are still there. He can hardly turn his head to the side - his neck resists the motion, and it feels stiff. His back aches where his wings meet flesh, and his side burns horribly where a blade had once pierced it. Days where it takes every once of willpower he harbors to simply smile softly at those he meets, and when his voice isn’t as strong or sturdy as he would like it to be when he tries to reassure both himself, and Sandalphon that he’s fine. Where this new body doesn’t feel quite right because it’s devoid of the scars and callouses and imperfections that had once composed him. Days like these where the world is spinning, and everything stings.   

     Days like these where he finds himself wondering if Lucilius would still be capable of looking at him with just how much he’s spiraled from grace. And her words strike a cord, his hands flexing gently where they rest against the table. Before the other archangels, before the numerous labs, and the countless buildings. Before the council had gotten involved, and before his dear friend had lost his way - it had just been the two of them, and Belial in that garden. One still wild and untamed with flowers and weeds and grass that spilled over every inch of the island - vines often tangling about Lucilius’s feet, and grass getting caught in his robes. He recalls the moments when he would have to help his creator up or wash his hair after he had managed to get himself covered in dirt after crawling around looking for a specific specimen to study as he would curiously loom over the other; absorbing everything there was to learn. Back then, being alive had been more than enough for him. Each day he had embraced with great ease, and a feverish desire to study everything and everyone. He had smiled often as he listened to Lucilius speak about complex theories and convoluted projects, and he had moved about the garden with little care to his appearance and mannerisms - the sky had not seemed so vast, and the purpose for which he had been created had not felt so heavy. At some point; however, he had forgotten that being alive had always been, and would always be enough. Now, slowly, it was a lesson he was relearning each day he spent with the crew, grateful for the second chance he had been given, and everything that had come with it. Even on the days when it was painful and difficult. “Yes, you are right,” he admits slowly; voice soft.

      He curls and uncurls his fingers one last before he looks over at her with a melancholic smile staining his smooth lips. Silver lashes flutter faintly against the bags beneath his eyes, and pearly locks sway gently in the breeze. They lack their typical luster - duller from the lack of sleep the night before. He had never needed such a thing prior to his revival, but this new body came with a handful of setbacks - that being one of them. “I had somehow managed to forget something so very simple somewhere along the line.” His gaze briefly turns to the elderly cafe owner where she’s now sat at one of the tables with a young woman, her expression warm as she listens to the stranger speak. When she catches his attention on her, she turns her head slightly to meet him with a comforting smile that he does his best to return before looking back over at Prunella. The motion alone is enough to make his neck feel sore, but he ignores it to the best of his ability. His hands moving, instead, to wrap about the delicate mug to allow the heat of the coffee within to warm his palms, and soothe his rampant thoughts. “Though I have trouble admitting admit...that might have been the first lesson he had ever taught to me.” There’s sorrow in his tone, one that brings his voice down a pitch lower than it usually is - a rarity for him. His feelings regarding his own creator remain conflicted, and he remains unaware of the horrors the Astral had put many of the other archangels through. Yet, even without that knowledge, what he feels is complicated, and he can’t scarcely begin to understand it when he’s only just allowed himself to express his emotions openly recently - or rather, he’s just beginning to learn how to from watching and interacting with the rest of the crew, as well as from his own desire to understand Sandalphon better this time around. “You have my thanks, Prunella, for reminding me of that.” 

[kentuckywrites]

Tell Me A Story

The story of the man who could not die, and how he allowed himself a moment to truly live.

It had been a bad day.

A mission gone wrong. BLADEs dying beside him. Astral Heals given too late. Skells destroyed. And once again, Pongo was the only one standing. He was the only one left.

Pongo walked. He climbed up a familiar ridge and positioned himself so he could see the night sky and the ocean beyond the cliffside. The cold Primordian air tasted ever so slightly of salt. But more than that, he tasted blood, fresh on his lips and permeating through his skin and heart, electrifying the guilt beneath. He could already hear a cacophony of voices, telling him it wasn’t his fault, there was nothing he could do, he gave it his all and sometimes bad things happen.

But...bad things always happened. He knew he could’ve done something, anything, to save people. The guilt only grew with every passing day. Would he ever be strong enough? Would he ever be able to save people? Pongo was starting to believe he’d been lied to. He couldn’t do this. He was a fool for even trying. He was going to disappoint everyone who ever believed in him, but giving up was better than continuing to lie, continuing to feed into this picture of a perfect hero.

Pongo was tired. Tired of always falling, tired of getting back up. He was tired of losing people and never having a say in their safety, despite doing everything in his fucking power to be a protector. 

He sat down on the cliffside, soaking in the night air. He closed his eyes, feeling the ground beneath his fingertips, and eventually coming to discover that Mira was closer than before. In his mind he could feel the planet shift, almost as if it were uncomfortable. Eventually Pongo addressed it, since Mira seemed unwilling to speak.

“Mira? Tell me a story.”

There was no response, at first. A strange request, one that Mira wasn’t anticipating. But then, it began to echo inside his mind, its words soft and soothing.

There once was a man who could not die. This man could throw himself into explosions, into deep fiery volcanoes, into the deepest pits of the planet, and yet he always returned. He used this invincibility to save others, time and time again, and he never asked anything in return. 

Pongo lied down, staring straight up at the stars. “What happened to that man?”

He died again, one day. When he returned, things were normal. No one was surprised to see this man, because he had died so many times that it had become a routine. There was no fanfare, no congratulations, no thanks given for saving lives. It is the simple truth that humanity tends to forget their heroes, for they have short lifespans in the minds of men. The man who could not die was no longer a hero, because heroes are original, and there were plenty of other heroes who had never died. That was a far more impressive feat to most.

“Where did he go? What became of him?”

He died, but in a manner unlike any other death he had overcome before. He meant nothing to humanity anymore. And so, he gave up his life of being a hero. He put down his sword, his shield, his guns and his armor. He embraced being a simple man, never once throwing down his life for another, and simply worked to enjoy the life he had been given. The life he kept throwing away for others, the life that had never garnered any respect past being a necessity. He learned more about himself than he ever could have in his time being a hero. And he was happy, truly happy.

“But he was a hero…” Pongo breathed, “How could he abandon everyone who needed him? Did people think he was selfish for leaving?”

Never. Not once. Because in the end, he was a hero amongst heroes. They continued to fight, and more people became inspired to become heroes themselves as a result of the deeds the man performed. 

“So...so he never meant anything, even after all that time.”

Maybe not to the entire populace. But the lives he saved, and the friends he made...he meant the world to them. And they meant the world to him. It hurt the man, leaving their sides, but in the end he never truly left them. He was happier living his own life, but that never meant he had to shy away from his friends. And they recognized this happiness too, and they were happy for him.

Pongo was quiet. He closed his eyes, and when they opened again, tears flooded down his cheeks, dripping softly onto the grass below his body.

“I am tired, Mira,” He confessed, close to the brink of sobbing, “I am so tired.”

I know. 

“I want to keep fighting. I want to prove that I can save people. I want to prove that I am strong and all my training means something.”

It does. It always did. 

“Then why...why am I so tired? Why do I feel so weak?”

Because your life has been dedicated to everyone but yourself. Because you have saved so many, but you have never saved yourself.

“Why would I want to?!” Pongo cried, “There is nothing here. You created me to guide them, to protect them - none of this was ever about me! And I never wanted this to be about me, because the lives I saved were always going to outweigh my own!!”

Mira’s tone shifted. Something about its softness turned into mush, into a guilt Pongo had never heard before.

You were built for greatness. You proved greatness deserves better than you.

Pongo choked on a sob, and the pain inside his heart forced him to turn over, to tuck his knees close into his chest and bury his head in between. Mira continued, even with his change in posture.

I would ask you how you managed to save people without ever saving yourself, but I know what your answer will be. You bottle every emotion up that is not joy and excitement and happiness, because who would want to see a hero cry? You have proven time and time again that you are worthy of your own life, that you can cry and be angry and curse the fates for the hand you were dealt. And yet you never complained. You kept it all inside, and now, you are bursting at the seams.

“I can keep it in,” Pongo tried to argue, but his voice cracked and his words shook.

I know you can. You did it for so long. But now...Pongo. I think you deserve to rest.

“N-No, I -”

Please. Please, Pongo. You said it yourself. You are tired, and you have every right to be. Please...just rest. Do not worry about tomorrow just yet. Rest, and dream.

Sleep had never been kind to Pongo. He knew the unconscious was capable of producing horrors far greater than the ones he faced in reality. But something in him begged and pleaded for this. Something in him was reassuring, told him that no nightmares would haunt him tonight. 

So, remaining in fetal position, Pongo closed his eyes again.

“Will you be here when I wake?”

Mira chuckled sadly.

I would never leave you.

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 30 - the afterburn of childhood wounds

Back to the Beginning   < Previous chapter / Next chapter >   

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: mild panic, memories of past abuse, pain, verbal abuse)

(The title of the chapter comes from "Often I Pray" by Michael Sowder.)

Daveigh didn’t waste any time the next morning, practically shaking Patton awake at the first signs of light on the horizon—much to Patton’s displeasure.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up, immediately awake and concerned.

“I know it’s early, but I couldn’t wait,” Daveigh said, unable to hide her unabashed grin as she rummaged around in the dark. Patton heard the rustle of stiff fabric as Daveigh retied her skirt around her waist, and out of pure instinct, Patton fixed his gaze on the doorway. It seemed everyone on the island had little sense of a need for privacy. Daveigh and Mikhail wore simple skirts made of a durable, off-white fabric—Daveigh wearing a wrapping of similar material around her chest, but nothing more. It wasn’t that Patton thought they were being unseemly, it was just… a bit of an adjustment for him when Daveigh had announced it was time for bed, discarded her skirt, and walked casually across the hut to her woven mat, plopping down and promptly falling asleep.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Living on a deserted island for as long has they probably had, privacy was likely a luxury they’d learned to live without. He’d just have to learn as well, it seemed. He still wore the clothing he’d shown up in—jeans, a t-shirt reading “famILY" across the front, and his favorite cardigan. The fabric was worn from the harsh salt water and was incredibly dirty, but he couldn’t bring himself to discard them. Not yet.

Patton looked over at Logan, sleeping on his side, curled tightly in on himself. He looked uncomfortable, and perhaps a bit cold. He certainly wasn’t as used to sleeping on the ground as Patton was. He still wore his old clothes as well, jeans and the deep blue polo shirt he usually wore to work. His glasses were gone—which Patton was still getting used to. He didn’t mind, of course... but he’d liked Logan’s glasses. They framed his face in such a nice way…

“Come on,” Daveigh said, dressed and stepping out into the cool morning. “You want to learn how to astral project, don’t you?”

Patton joined her, pulling his cardigan sleeves down over his hands and bunching the fraying fabric in his fists. “Lead the way.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun didn’t take long to rise and warm Patton’s back comfortingly. Daveigh had taken him to a section of the beach far from Eudora’s cave and with much softer sand. They sat across from each other, Patton fidgeting his fingers through the sand at his feet.

“Okay, first of all: this event in the past you projected into. You knew someone there? Personally?”

“Yeah, his name is Virgil.”

“And you’re in love with him, yes?”

Patton choked. “I—what? Why would—I mean…”

“I’m in love with Amaryllis, so there’s a chance your powers could have picked up on that, but then why that event?” she said casually, as if she were solving a math problem and not ousting Patton’s deepest feelings. “If it had only been my influence, you likely would have seen something from our time together—but you saw Virgil. Am I right?”

Patton flushed so hard he was surprised he didn’t start giving off steam. “Yes.”

Daveigh clapped her hands together, “Great, that solves that mystery for us. Oracles can do more than just witness the future, like sibyls do. We have a connection to time and space itself. When we form emotional connections with people, especially strong ones, our powers react to that and can become directionalized if you aren’t paying enough attention to what you’re doing,” she explained.

Patton’s brow knit. “What?”

“Your abilities are directly affected by your emotions, and therefore your connection to others. Have you ever had a dream about someone you didn’t know?”

Patton thought back. The only dreams he’d had that weren’t about himself were Merri and Roman—not counting the time-travel escapade last night, of course. “No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to control them,” she explained, lifting a finger. “Our powers are designed as self-preservation tools. Whenever an emotionally charged event in the future looms closer, your powers kick in to warn you about it—but they only pertain to yourself or those you care about because, according to your powers, anything else happening in the world doesn’t matter. You have to learn to broaden your perspective.”

“And that will help me stop the dreams?” Patton asked.

Daveigh hesitated. “Stop them? Why would you want to stop them?”

“I mean, not right now, but… eventually, yeah.” Patton wrapped his arms around his knees, the morning sunlight making the left half of his face prickle with warmth. “I don’t like seeing the horrible things that are going to happen to my friends,” he whispered. He glanced over at her. “Do you?”

Daveigh looked absolutely heartbroken. She turned away from him, facing the ocean. “When I opened your mind the first day I met you,” she began, voice soft with shame, “I’d never felt so many mental barriers in my life. I didn’t see anything—that isn’t how our powers work—but watching what reliving those memories did to you…”

Patton tensed. He remembered the feeling of liquid fire coursing through him, every wall he’d ever constructed torn asunder. Memories let loose to wreak havoc as they pleased. He shivered. “That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”

“It was my fault, Patton. I should have asked, and I know I’ve apologized about a hundred times already, but I’ll do it again. Excitement isn’t an excuse.”

Patton swallowed. “Thank you.”

Daveigh took a breath. “Your powers will always be a part of you, Patton. Repressing them will only make them more unruly and unpredictable, but… you’ve really never had a happy prediction before?”

“Not that I can remember,” he admitted.

Daveigh ran a hand across her smooth scalp. “I wish my mentor were here. She’d know how to help you without hurting you so much.”

Patton shifted, unfurling himself from his semi-fetal position. His powers weren’t going away. The sooner he could accept that and learn to control them, the sooner he’d be able to help his friends. “I want your help, Daveigh. I don’t care if it hurts.”

“But—”

“I’m going to help save my friends. All of them. I can’t do that as I am right now,” he said, his resolve building as he spoke, slowly but surely. “I’ve lived with pain before. I will gladly do it for the people I love.”

Daveigh smiled at him. “Okay, but you have to promise to let me know when you need a break, okay? We don’t want another panic attack.”

“Right,” Patton said, smiling back.

“Okay, first we’re going to just have you astral project out of your body, right here on the beach. Sit with you legs crossed,” she instructed, “and place your hands—yes, like that. Okay, now close your eyes and concentrate.”

“On what?” Patton asked, feeling slightly foolish sitting there with his eyes closed.

“You can start with your breathing. Feel your environment around you. Eventually, you’ll feel yourself disconnect from your body.”

Patton opened his eyes. “What?”

Daveigh raised a placating hand. “It’s okay. You’ll be perfectly safe. I promise.”

Patton chewed the inside of his cheek skeptically as he closed his eyes again. “So basically you want me to force myself to dissociate?”

“No. The opposite, actually.” Daveigh said. “Focus on your breathing, and I’ll explain.”

Patton nodded.

“Dissociation is a result of panic and anxiety. It forces the self to retreat deep inside the mind to escape what is happening around it. Astral projection is sending the self outside the mind to perceive things that the body cannot. The two are mutually exclusive. If you begin to feel too much fear while projecting, your body will drag you back in an effort to protect you. In extreme cases, you can rebound in the opposite direction and end up dissociated.”

This is going to be harder than I thought, then, Patton thought, dutifully focusing on his breathing. Daveigh stopped talking, but he could still hear her breathing softly beside him.

Patton wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been sitting there when suddenly, something shifted. Sounds became clearer and more precise. Instead of just waves washing up and down the beach, he heard the rustle of sand against the push and pull, the trickle of every droplet as waves crested and tumbled over themselves; the wind as it brushed across the beach, picking up an entourage of minuscule particles, parading after it joyously. The sun warming him. Vibrating through him.

Patton felt himself tip forward, as if falling asleep, and he jerked up, blinking in the light.

Daveigh looked over at him, smiling. “Well done.”

“What?” Patton looked down and saw himself sitting where he had a moment ago, but his body was slumped forward, completely limp. He was overlapping his own body in a strange, almost terrifying way. Patton bit down on the fear, remembering Daveigh’s warning. Slowly, he stood and stepped away from his body. Daveigh repositioned it—him?—so that his body lay on its back on the beach. It was odd, still feeling the sun on his face, the warm sand beneath his back, while standing a few paces away.

Looking down at his current state, Patton found himself similar to how he’d appeared with Amaryllis. Shimmering. Angel-like. A little transparent, but not enough that he felt like a ghost.

“I did it!” he breathed, feeling his own voice vibrate through his new astral body like he stood inside an enormous church bell. “Whoa, that’s weird. Helloooo?” he said, testing it out. Daveigh watched him gleefully. “This didn’t happen last time,” he noted.

Daveigh nodded. “You weren’t in control last time, and your mind did its best to keep you feeling safe.”

Patton started. He could hear her twice, from both his own ears and those of his body. He shook his head and Daveigh laughed. That, too, freaked his brain out. “We never completely detach from our bodies, no matter how far we go. You’ll always be able to hear, feel, and smell if you concentrate hard enough.”

Patton held a hand out, studying it. He could still touch his own skin, though it felt smoother; he didn’t pass through his palm like he was made of mist, but looking down, he found he wasn’t making an imprint in the sand beneath his feet.

“Can I touch you when I’m like this?” he asked, reaching out tentatively. Daveigh obliged and swiped her hand right through his arm.

“Unfortunately, no. There are very few things we can interact with while in the astral plane,” she said, standing.

But her body remained where it was, sitting calmly on the sand.

Patton smirked. “How come you get to sit all nicely while I look like someone hit me over the head?”

Daveigh winked. “Core muscles.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “No. When you’ve done this for a while, you’ll be able to astral project and control your physical body at the same time. See?” she said, and Patton jumped when Daveigh’s body turned, opened its eyes, and waved at him before returning to its meditative seat.

“That’s kinda creepy,” he chuckled, looking at his own body warily, waiting for it to spring up and do something ridiculous. “So, it’s like you’re in two places at once?”

Daveigh shook her head, gesturing for him to follow her down the beach, away from their bodies. Patton followed, smothering his nerves in his trust of her.

“It’s more like aiming a crossbow with both eyes open,” she said. Patton gave her a confused look. “No? Let’s see… it’s like reading while you walk. You aren’t putting all of your focus on where you’re going, but just enough not to run into anything. Does that make sense? Typically, you can’t speak or make too complex of facial expressions without really concentrating, but I could get up and do simple tasks while my astral self was elsewhere. That’s a little advanced, though. Let’s just start with putting some distance between you and your body.”

They strode down the beach calmly, Patton simply trying to get used to the sensation of it all. He could feel the ground beneath his feet, but he didn’t sink into the sand or leave footprints. He saw a breeze pulling on the palm trees, and could feel it faintly across his body behind him, but his astral form didn’t react to it, his hair lying still.

Curious, he wandered over to the water and let the tide rush over his feet and ankles. The water went right through him, undisturbed. He did feel the temperature difference though, his feet going cold, but remaining dry. Daveigh stepped up next to him.

“We don’t need to breathe in this form,” she said. “We don’t float, either.”

Patton stopped, realizing that he was, in fact, not breathing. He could feel his body breathing of course, but his shimmering, translucent chest didn’t rise or fall with breath. He started. “You mean we could walk underwater?”

She nodded, smiling. “It's quite the experience. Maybe another time. I think it might prove a little too overwhelming for you to handle on your first time. It can be quite disconcerting.”

“My feet are cold,” he mentioned, wiggling his incorporeal toes.

“We can feel temperature, to an extent,” she said, continuing down the beach.

He followed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we can’t be injured, we don’t have physical bodies right now, but that doesn’t mean extreme heat or cold wouldn’t be painful,” she explained.

Patton opened his mouth to ask another question, but something flickered in his periphery and he stopped, turning. Daveigh slowed to a stop ahead of him, watchful but unsurprised.

“What was—” Patton started, when something else flashed just out of his field of view and he whirled again.

“Remember what I said about the difference between projection and dissociation?”

“Yeah, but I don’t—”

“Patton,” Merri whispered so close to his ear he could practically feel her breath. Patton yelped and stumbled back a few steps, but nothing was there. Just him and Daveigh standing on the beach.

Daveigh watched him carefully. “I said that astral projection makes the self aware of things that the body is not, that includes being aware of your own mindscape.”

Patton’s breath came quicker now. He felt like he was being watched on all sides. “You mean my memories,” he said. “They’re all here?”

“To an extent,” she said. “You will not relive them as vividly as you would a flashback, but fleeting glimpses of them will appear. Smells, sounds, people, objects. They aren’t real, Patton,” she admonished. “You must remember that.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable to keep from glancing around the beach. Patton lifted a hand to the ear he’d heard Merri in. He could have sworn she was right there. More images tugged on his attention from the corner of his eye, and it took a significant effort not to turn and look. Daveigh put a hand on his shoulder, and he relished the solid contact.

“Patton-cake, are you ready to go?” Dot called from only a little ways away, her voice several years younger than he’d last heard her. Patton felt his eyes misting and took a shaking breath. He could hear her closing a sandwich baggie and folding down the top of the brown paper sack his lunches were always in for school. Now, it seemed, it wasn’t only the bad memories that would be hard for him to handle.

“Is it… will it always be like this?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You’ll never completely get rid of them, but you can muffle them. It takes a lot of training, though,” she said. “There are many factors at play. How far you are from your body, how emotional you are, what emotions you’re feeling exactly, how concentrated you are. Your mental state affects how you experience the astral plane.”

Patton stiffened as his own broken screams pierced the air from behind him, but before he could even think about turning around, he flew away from Daveigh, like someone had yanked him backward on a leash. The world went black for a split second and Patton gasped, sitting up in his body once more.

He felt heavy, like he’d donned a lead-filled track suit. Patton had only projected for a couple of minutes, but feeling his lungs expanding in his chest, the blood pumping through his entire body… it all felt brand new and a bit foreign.

His screams were seared into his mind.

Patton felt nauseous and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Daveigh rubbed his back gently. “The feeling will pass after a few moments.”

He stiffened. “Can you not touch me right now, please?” he breathed, fighting for calm. She retracted her hand immediately.

“Of course. I should have asked. Forgive me.”

“It’s fine, just… give me a minute.”

Daveigh sat silently next to him while he collected himself, carefully organizing his mind back to where it had been. He realized he couldn’t live like this forever, not dealing with his past. Of course, he knew. But not right now. Not on an island in the middle of nowhere, not knowing if Roman or Virgil were still alive. That would have to wait.

* * * * * * * * * *

Virgil stared in disbelief at the cluster of trees where the portal to Wakeby had once been. Behind him, Dorian corralled Remus from accosting a tree nymph with that strange expression that could have been fondness but surely wasn’t because immortal snake-demons weren’t fond of anything, and Roman watched in slack-jawed amazement as a swarm of multicolored pixies passed by overhead.

“This place is amazing!” Roman said. “Hey, Dorian, is it always this warm?”

“Yes,” the demon replied. “Though there is a rainy season that lasts about a month.”

“I don’t understand,” Virgil breathed. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Roman approached from behind. “Virgil, what’s wro—”

Pain erupted behind Virgil’s eyes and he gasped, swaying. His ears rang and his head swam. Virgil knew that pain. Ursula was trying to enter his mind. No doubt she could sense that he’d returned to their homeland. Through watering eyes, Virgil saw Roman about to reach out and steady him.

“No!” he cried, scrambling away from Roman, careful to keep Ursula from hearing his words. he fell back to a seat on the ground, backing up against a tree. “Don’t touch me. She’ll know.”

“What?”

“It’s Ursula,” he managed, forcing controlled breaths in through his nose and out through clenched teeth She was breaking through. “She’ll sense your powers if—if you touch—”

You are getting harder and harder to contact, kitty, she tutted inside his mind. Care to explain—

“Virgil, let me help—”

—what you’re doing in the Witchlands? I don’t—

“—what do you need me to do?”

—remember giving you permission to abandon the prince.

“Shut up! Just stop talking!” Virgil cried, clutching his head. He couldn’t focus on both of them at once, especially when they were talking over one another. Roman shut his mouth immediately, stepping back. Dorian watched curiously from afar, then leaned over and muttered something in Roman’s ear.

How dare you speak to me like that, Ursula snapped, her presence pressing down even harder. Still it wasn’t the worst Virgil had experienced from her. It didn’t make sense for her to be holding back, and she’d said it was getting harder for her to reach him… it was probably just the Witchlands itself. Ursula being banished must be affecting their connection.

If you’ve brought the prince there to cultivate his powers, there won’t be a single corner on in the universe where you can hide from me, she hissed. Virgil could feel her attempting to see through his eyes. He panicked. If she saw Roman—if she knew Dorian was working with them… it would all be over. You’ll wish I killed you, you worthless—

I ran away! Virgil thought back frantically.

The throbbing lessened somewhat. What?

Virgil stopped bridling his fear, letting it wash through him, making sure Ursula could sense it. They didn’t want me anymore, so I ran away. I figured coming here, I’d be less of a burden to you.

How’d you  get inside?

I kept the charm.

All these years? Ursula snorted. You always were a coward. I should have known.

He saw Roman begin to argue under his breath with Dorian, gesturing at Virgil. He probably wanted the demon to aide him in dealing with the dragon witch. Thankfully, Dorian understood what was going on far better than Roman did, and Virgil didn’t have to convince him not to. He shook his head, staring at Virgil, and for once Virgil didn’t feel pinned to the floor by it. It was almost comforting, knowing that someone that powerful was on his side.

Fine, if you’re too much of a child to do your job, stay in the Witchlands. Less of a chance you’ll get in my way, she sighed. How’s the curse holding up? Our prince is still in one piece?

Yes, he’s fine, last I saw, Virgil reported, replacing the fear with defeat, hopefully feeding into Ursula’s sense of still having control.

You know, she said carefully, I remember the prince mentioning a promise he had with Bloodwyrm to kill me in exchange for his freedom last we met. Any idea what that’s about?

Virgil’s mind raced. She was testing him—prodding at his story to see if it held together under pressure. It was unlikely that he wouldn’t have known about it, but he couldn’t let her get too suspicious. There was a contract Roman convinced the demon to enter into, but it expired when you defeated him. The curse is still intact.

Very well, she conceded, and it took an immense effort just to keep relief from flooding his mind. Enjoy your little vacation, coward. However, if Bloodwyrm disposes of my prince sooner than later, I’ll expect you back here. I’m going to need something to keep him occupied.

Dread trickled down Virgil’s throat at the thought. Of course.

And with that, the dragon witch withdrew.

[a-world-in-grey]

So, my LC OC for Shadow of Heaven’s Light!! Because this is what my brain was doing instead of sleeping.

-LC is Noctis’ older sister, because a) there aren’t enough female LCs, and 2) FFXV is all about parallels and paired/opposite symbolism.

-So seven years before Noctis is born, Regis and Aulea aren’t quite as careful as they should be after Regis’ coronation. Cue a Royal Wedding three years earlier than canon so their whoops baby isn’t also an illegitimate baby. (Whoops! XD)

-Cor is godfather. Aulea hands him this little girl with fire-red hair and Cor just Melts. Goodbye, Gone, Sola Lucis Caelum has the Immortal wrapped around her fingers with a single yawn. His Kitten now. 

-Sola is either Sunshine or Trouble. There is no middle. When she’s not beaming smiles and pealing laughter or curled up on Cor’s chest for a midday cat nap in a convenient sun-patch, Sola is driving her poor nurses insane as she nyooms off and up the nearest piece of furniture. 

-Cor is Favorite. (Cor is Smug.) This isn’t really a Problem until Sola decides, age 5, that she doesn’t want to be Queen because being Queen is Boring and she wants to grow up to be like Uncle Cor. Regis and Aulea explain that Sola is Crown Princess - and only princess - and that means she has to be Queen when she grows up because there’s no one else who can do the job. 

-Cue Sola’s demand for a little sibling so THEY can be Crown Prince/ss.

-Regis Chokes.

-But Regis and Aulea decide that they do want another child. Sola is over the moon when Aulea announces that Sola will be a Big Sister around a year later.

-Sola is Down to be a Big Sister. She is so excited to have a little sibling, and the sheer awe on her face when she finally sees bby!Noctis after he’s born is beyond compare. Regis, Aulea, Clarus, and Cor watch fondly as Sola tells the little baby in Aulea’s arms that she is going to be the bestest sister ever and anyone messing with him is going to deal with her because Noctis is her little brother and she’s going to be his Sword like Uncle Cor is Papa’s.

-True to her word, Sola ‘abdicates’ in favor of Noctis a mere week after he’s born and Refuses to take it back. Noctis can have the crown, SHE wants the swords. The face Sola pulls when someone points out that Queens get the swords AND the crown makes it pretty clear how Sola fells about THAT. Besides, Sola can’t be her brother’s Sword if she’s Queen.

-However, Aulea never really recovers from Noctis’ birth, and two years later dies. Sola... changes. Sola devotes herself completely to Noctis, both as his big sister and as his Sword. When she’s not spending her time reading and playing with Noctis, she’s tearing through her studies and training with such single-minded ferocity that people begin to whisper of her being a Second Cor the Immortal.

-Regis worries at just how much Sola takes after her godfather. He remembers what Cor was like as a teenager, and it’s not like Cor has Stopped Pulling Stupid Shit in the years since. 

-Cor isn’t worried. After all, he’s the one training Sola and he’s going to ensure that anything that starts shit with Sola is Not Going To Live To Regret It. Because if Sola doesn’t finish it, HE WILL.

-(And then Cor does worry, because Sola declares in her ten year-old Righteous Fury that she’s going to fight Gilgamesh and chop off his other arm to avenge Uncle Cor and get his sword back.)

-(Cue heart attacks and ALL adults in earshot trying to dissuade Sola before it’s too late to change her mind. It’s too late to change her mind. Cor only just manages to get Sola to accept that she has to beat Cor FIRST before she can go off to fight Gilgamesh. Later, Cor, Clarus, and Regis share a bottle of liquor while Regis and Clarus tell Cor ‘WE TOLD YOU SO.’)

-Regis does NOT tell Sola about Noctis being the Chosen King. He is not stupid thank you very much. Twelve or not, Astrals or not, Sola Will Throw Hands for her brother, no hesitation.

-Sola isn’t there when Noctis is attacked by the Marilith. She furious, because her brother is in pain and she cannot do anything. She even more furious when Regis forbids her from going to Tenebrae with them and has Cor make sure Sola cannot sneak out after them.

-Sola joins the Kingsglaive two days after Regis and Noctis leave. (Let it not be said that Sola cannot be Petty)

-Well, she doesn’t join officially, not when the minimum age requirement is 16 and she’s only 15 yet. But the first real look the Kingsglaive get of the Princess is the redhead storming into their training halls, magic whipping about her in a physical manifestation of her fury, walking up to the Captain and demanding to join their training.

-Titus doesn’t so much as blink before he directs her towards the training course. (Sola tears through the Kingsglaive training with the same ferocity as everything else, pushing herself to complete the courses and then to master it.)

-Regis hates the idea of his daughter fighting on the front lines. But he knows Sola will not be deterred, and even if he were willing to take the challenge Sola’s blue eyes all but dare him to take and deny her enlistment, he can’t. 

-Because for the first time Sola is making friends. Friends that are hers first and not Noctis’. People she can be Sola with, rather than Noctis’ Sister/Sword or the Princess.

-They’ve even kindled an interest in magic in Sola. After Sola had deemed her odd golden magic, with such a leaning towards healing that Regis hasn’t heard of outside the Oracles, useless for being unable to heal her mother Regis didn’t think Sola would ever learn more than the basics. But now Sola is eagerly putting her head together with Ulric and Altius and coming up with more ways to make magic explode than actual spells, but Sola is using her magic.

-Libertus and Luche despair over getting another reckless idiot, a reckless idiot that is alSO THE PRINCESS WHAT DID THEY DO TO DESERVE THIS?! They have a hard enough time reigning in Nyx!

-That said, no one in Kingsglaive is going to refuse having Sola at their backs. The girl may only be five feet two inches, but it’s five feet two inches of solid muscle and she’s fast. Only person faster than her is Nyx and that’s because she doesn’t share his talent for warping. But she’ll come in swinging and hit whichever poor sod like a damn freight train with that spear of hers, throwing up shields so Crowe can cut loose with the fire and not catch the rest of them in the blast radius.

-Sola and Crowe are a match made in hell, and if Libertus didn’t know for a fact they were friends he’d be far more worried at how much Nyx and Sola bicker.

-Of course, Sola firmly cements herself as One of Them when she’s nineteen and at Yamachang’s place with the other off-duty glaives. An Insomnian tries to pick a fight with the ‘dirty foreigners’ and the glaives don’t get the chance to do more than bristle before Sola is out of her seat and kicking the asshole’s kneecap in, red hair falling out of its braid and blue eyes burning with murderous fury.

-And as Libertus keeps Sola from beating the idiot bloody, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t find that so hot.

Alright, that’s all for now.

tagging @secret-engima because she spawned this damn plunny.

[secret-engima]

Nox and/or Ardyn meeting little Prom?

(Ohhhh okay then. Buckle up because I can do literally nothing by halves and this ask exploded into a 2.5k long HC format story/thing. Also @wolfsrainrules @hamelin-born @sparklecryptid you three might find this interesting?)

…

-Nox likes to think he knows himself pretty well. Which is why he would be the first one to admit that, in some things, he is a total coward. Ask him to blow up a Nif base, no problem. Tell him to face down daemons, sure as long as he had enough flasks to set everything on fire. Ask him to escort his little brother to school? The school where, somewhere amidst the other faceless classmates, Prompto also goes and learns and Nox might encounter him?

-In that, Nox is the greatest of cowards.

-It’s been four years since he was discovered by Regis and talked into living in the Citadel and while Nox has learned to swallow the pain of being around so many people who don’t remember him anymore (have never been through what he went through with them once upon a time) and embrace the happiness that they are alive and whole… some wounds still felt too deep. It was why Nox tended to discreetly vacate the room when Ignis and Gladiolus were chatting with Noctis (their Noctis, not him, not the brother who had died for them because they were not the brothers he had died for). It still hurt too much sometimes to look at them and know that, on the one hand, they were happy and whole and loyal to their Noctis, unblinded and unscarred. But on the other hand … they didn’t know him. They were … younger than him. Looked at him with a mix of respect and confused hurt (respect because he had protected Noctis when they couldn’t, confused hurt because they both knew that Nox tended to abruptly leave the room when they were in it despite his best efforts to be friendly).

-The thought of meeting Prompto like that, seeing blue eyes look at him like a stranger where once he had been a most trusted friend…. Nox was a coward. He didn’t want that kind of pain. (Prompto had always been different compared to Ignis and Gladiolus, the commoner brother who sought him out rather than the brothers who were bound by oath first before love had formed. The brother who followed not because of oath first and affection second but always, always because of their friendship first. Because the Crownsguard oath had just been a convenient excuse to follow Noctis into the jaws of death and back where otherwise Noctis would have tried to make him stay behind. If seeing Ignis and Gladiolus made it hard to breathe sometimes, Nox didn’t want to know what seeing Prompto would do to him). So he avoided Noctis’s school like the coward he was and prayed Noctis could make friends with Prompto on his own.

-Of course, the world seemed to make a hobby out of forcing Nox to jump headfirst into his fears.

-Nox is exploring Insomnia in the middle of a faintly drizzly late afternoon, hoodie pulled over his head to help keep people from noticing him and recognizing the Second Prince of Lucis (eldest prince yet not crown prince, the tabloids were still going on about that and it had been four years), meandering down some random, mostly unpopulated stretch when he hears the cursing. Loud, ugly cursing, slurred and edged with violence in the way only angry drunks could get (who gets drunk in the middle of the afternoon anyway?). Nox frowns and jogs closer, some instinct niggling in his head that the drunk wasn’t cursing at air, and that if Nox wasn’t there to break it up, something might go wrong. He’s about ten yards away when he sees the drunk begin stomping on something, hears the crunch of plastic and glass and a young voice begin sobbing in fear and grief both, “St-stop! Stop, that’s m-my- m-my-!”

-Nox feels the world slow down, every hair on his body prickling from the static of his own rising magic. Sees the drunk raising a fist toward the blond little boy who had done nothing but protest the destruction of his treasure. The world freezes in place, like one of Prompto’s battle snapshots. Everything is clear. The drunk, the broken fragments of camera under the man’s feet, the chubby little boy cringing away from the impending violence, blue eyes wide and terrified behind his glasses. Nox exhales and feels the world turn blue.

-Prompto-my friend-my Sharpshot-my Prompto-you-dARE- 

-The drunk slams into the dirt hard enough to knock the wind out of him, has one chance to gasp out a curse before magic swells like deadly blue tides and sobriety is burned into the man’s brain by the sheer, painful weight of terror at having at least fifteen blades of varying shapes and sizes, all of them pulsing with barely leashed power, pointed at his throat. Nox towers over the man, fury stirring his long hair like a breeze, eyes gleaming like fresh blood as the clouds over their heads thicken and snarl with promise (the taste of the Fulgarian’s magic sits on the back of Nox’s tongue, waiting for the barest hint of desire on Nox’s part for Ramuh to manifest and unleash Judgement). Nox inhales and tightens his mental grasp on what is left of his self control. Exhales past bared fangs and hisses in the voice of a hundred old kings, “Touch Prompto and I’ll make you scream.” The former-drunk cringes into the dirt, not enough air in his lungs to plead for mercy that Nox doesn’t want to give. Nox gives it anyway, using the last scrap of self control to hiss, “Leave. And don’t come back.”

-The man crawls out from under Nox’s glittering armory and then runs without once looking back.

-Nox inhales, exhales, reels in the screaming power in his blood that wants to chase the man down and cut him open slowly for his transgressions (Lucis Caelums were not possessive because they were kings, they were kings because they would gladly tear apart nations for what was Theirs), dismisses both his armiger and Ramuh lingering in the clouds with a flick of his hand. He pulls his hood down and turns around to look at Prompto, swallowing back his own fear of being face to face with the boy who was once his best friend (so small, so small and civilian and oh astrals what if Nox has scared him off forever, to the point even Noctis will never befriend him?), as he drops down to his knees in front of the shaking boy, “Are you- are you okay?”

-Prompto is shaking, and there are still tears in his eyes, but after a moment of gaping the boy doesn’t run. He roughly swipes his eyes clear and bows, “Y-Your Highness! I- I-!” His gaze catches on his ruined camera and tears start to return, and Nox can’t stop himself from reaching out with his hoodie sleeve to wipe them away with a gentle shushing noise.

-“It’s okay, Prom,” Nox breathes, “You’re safe, it’s going to be okay. I’m sorry about your camera. Hey,” Nox wracks his brain for the camera parts and trivia Prompto always chatted about, oblivious to the way the little boy in front of him stares in confusion, “let’s see if the memory card survived, yeah? Then we’ll know what to do.”

-Somehow, Nox talks Prompto’s tears down without breaking down himself, helps the befuddled boy rescue his memory card from the pieces of his camera, then takes him down to a little camera store to buy a replacement (Nox had taken the camera in his armiger down there for repairs once, because even if the old timeline was gone he still wanted to keep the pictures and memories it held). Prompto starts crying again when Nox splurges his royal allowance to get Prompto a good camera (or, he assumes it is, he’d just watched to see which one Prompto stared longingly at the longest and grabbed it), which almost sets off Nox’s tears, but somehow he manages to talk them both down again long enough to pay for the camera, a protective case, and a carrying strap and walk the boy home.

-Somewhere in all that, Nox thinks he introduces himself, but honestly he isn’t sure. His mind is hazing a little from the panic.

-Somewhere in all that, Nox thinks Prompto asks how Nox knew his name. Nox freaks out internally for twenty seconds before blurting out some nonsense about looking up the faces and names of Noctis’s classmates for security purposes, which the twelve year old seems to buy without a blink (thank goodness).

-Nox walks Prompto to his house and realizes that the house is dark and … empty. Not just physically, but … to his senses. There’s no warm glow that seeps into wood and stone when happy life-forces spend a lot of time there, no signs of Prompto’s parents at all. Just a lonely little impression of the life-force Nox knows is Prompto’s. He asks where Prompto’s parents are (it’s evening already, shouldn’t they be home? Or at least worried about the whereabouts of their son?). Prompto answers that they’re busy at work, in a melancholy voice that means this is normal. Something ugly and black and possessive (something that purrs like Ardyn’s voice when he’s more Accursed than Uncle) rises up in Nox’s soul and drags the next questions out of him.

-“How often are they home? How often do you see them?”

-Prompto doesn’t hear the ugliness, doesn’t seem to think anything of the questions beyond answering the kindly, teenage prince who bought him a camera that is probably worth his parents’ car, “Once a m-month. Maybe. If they aren’t called out of town to a c-conference.”

-Nox sits on his emotions so fast it least his ears ringing. He manages to say goodbye to Prompto and walk home, immediately sweeps into a training room and tears it apart in his efforts to bleed off the fury that makes him want to kill something. His uncle and father all but sprint into the room in concern for why the entire Citadel is faintly trembling with Nox’s magic, Axis lurks in the corner with an expression that says he’s just waiting for Nox to give him names to murder on Nox’s behalf. Nox waves Axis and his father away, hides his face in Ardyn’s shoulder until they reluctantly leave and then tells Uncle what he’s seen and heard and learned.

-Ardyn listens to his story, to his soul-deep pain that the child version of his best friend is being neglected, was neglected all his childhood in the past timeline and Nox never knew, and in Ardyn’s eyes Nox can see the same ugly, possessive thing seething in Nox’s chest.

-Ardyn presses a kiss to his nephew’s forehead and says one thing, “Give me three weeks, Dearest Nephew, and have a suitable guardian picked out.” Then Ardyn sweeps out of the training room with a predatory stride Nox hasn’t seen since they were tracking down Bersithia for some well deserved murder.

….

-Ardyn has no real opinion on Prompto Argentum. He remembers the boy, of course. The defiant little thing that fought the Accursed at every turn despite his terror, the boy who was destined to be just another MT unit until the Lucians stole him away. But when his Dearest Nephew returns from one of his wanderings through Insomnia and shakes the Citadel with his grief-fury-fury-grief, Ardyn is already mentally preparing to do something drastic. Nox refuses to speak of it to anyone but him, which immediately narrows down the options to something involving their time-travel. Once Axis and Nox’s father have been convinced to leave, his Dearest Nephew huddles into his shoulder, physically vibrating with barely contained magic as he tells his story, explains the source of his pain.

-And Ardyn feels fury too. He does not know Prompto Argentum, especially not in this timeline, but this was the counterpart of the young man who had spat in the Accursed’s eye and followed Nox into the jaws of death without hesitation despite the aura of fear coming off the blond that Ardyn’s daemonic half had been able to taste like fine wine. This is one of Nox’s Chosen, one of his former brothers who was still precious to his heart.

-Ardyn kisses his Dearest Nephew’s forehead, tells him to give Ardyn three weeks and to have a suitable guardian picked out.

-Then Ardyn goes hunting.

-It is easy, pathetically easy, to get what he needs. The paperwork, the evidence of neglect, all the formal steps to his plan. Really, the longest part of it would have been orchestrating the emotional leverage, but Nox has accidentally done that for him by being so kind and protective of Prompto. Ardyn doesn’t need to lift a finger to recreate the budding friendship between Crown Prince and little Niflheim survivor, as Prompto pulls on his unknown wells of courage and befriends Noctis himself at school, probably as an unspoken thanks to Nox, or possibly just because the boy is too lonely to resist trying any longer. Either way, by the time Ardyn sweeps into Regis’s study and casually drops the case folder on the king’s desk, Noctis and Prompto are already fast friends who have been enjoying a continuous sleepover at the Citadel for about five days now (Ardyn’s idea, casually aired during one of Prompto’s day visits and then reinforced every time the boy reluctantly makes to return to his empty house, the excuse Ardyn is going to use to explain why he took interest in Prompto’s existence and home life).

-Regis gives Ardyn a look of long suffering, because apparently the former Chancellor of Niflheim shouldn’t be able to manipulate the Lucian legal system this thoroughly or some such nonsense, but the look fades into one of concern when he reads everything Ardyn has gathered about Noctis’s new best friend.

-With the king himself serving as the judge of the private court case, the former guardians of Prompto Argentum stand no chance (the fact that they don’t even try, don’t even fight to keep what they should have treasured makes something in Ardyn’s blood snarl. He makes a note to join his Dearest Nephew in the training room later).

-Prompto Argentum becomes Prompto Leonis almost overnight (and isn’t that an interesting choice of guardian, Ardyn wishes he knew how Nox pulled that off) and Ardyn is dragged along to visit the boy as the poor child adjusts to suddenly having a new home and a guardian that actually makes time for him despite his busy schedule.

-Ardyn looks down into large blue eyes in a very adorable face and feels a tiny piece of his heart melt. He sees the way Prompto looks at both Nox and Noctis with utter loyalty and adoration and a part of him coos.

-He relishes in the exasperated noises Dearest Nephew makes when Ardyn happily plops his hat onto the little blond’s head and sits on the floor to let the child ramble about the fancy camera Nox bought him and all the amazing (confusing) things it can do (why something meant to take pictures needed that many buttons and settings, Ardyn didn’t know).

-Ardyn feels himself smiling and takes far too much glee in the sputtering sounds both Nox and Cor make when he dubs Prompto his Artist Nephew. Inwardly cackles at everyone’s protests when he tells Prompto that he is now Ardyn’s fifth nephew and that Ardyn’s other nephews are Dearest Nephew (Nox), Littlest Nephew (Noctis), Logical Nephew (Ignis, who sighs at the sound of his new nickname every time), and Angry Nephew (in the corner, Gladiolus growls).

-“For the last time, it doesn’t…!” Protests Nox, but one look at Prompto’s hopeful look (at having more family, at having people who genuinely care) and the protest dies. Ardyn sits back smugly. Artist Nephew acquired.

-Now, to lure Cid and Cindy to Insomnia so Ardyn can watch the infamous crush Nox talked about in their previous timeline form…

[m00nslippers]

Jason is actually in-character in RHATO Issue #35!?

Wow, we got so much about the All-Caste in this issue. On the one hand, it kind of feels like it was pulled out of Lobdell’s ass, but on the other hand it’s badass and cool and the visuals are beautiful so I don’t even give a shit. Also like, there is just so much of Jason being Jason in the best and most pure way possible in this issue that it’s crazy? Let’s jump into the review and you’ll see what I mean.

We open on Jason in the midst of some kind of charity fundraiser with Isabel. Jason is looking awesome in his suit. The shoulder pads are toned down in most scenes finally, and he doesn’t look like he’s cosplaying Jafar anymore thank goodness.

First off, Jason doing a charity gala for Gotham’s poor is freaking canon now and I love that. Despite his new money and his fame, it doesn’t go to his head, he sees himself as separate from the rich people who didn’t have his experiences living poor on the streets. He still remembers that desperation and wants to help people. He’s a truly giving person that cares about others, always has and always will. Second of all, Jason is hanging out on the balcony being broody which is just Classic Jason™. He’s a loner, an introvert, he doesn’t like crowds. Especially crowds of rich kiss-asses. And he dislikes rich people. It’s so great when characters are written in-character, isn’t it?

And third of all, I love Isabel’s dress. It’s so classy, cream lace on black with a bow at the neck? Nice. You got style, girl.

So Jason opens up to Isabel and is unusually vocal about his thoughts regarding his negative feelings about Gotham and the rich and his father(s). It’s interesting to me because she’s the only person he’s ever really opened up to and spoken about this with. He’s not sharing his plans or involving her with his machinations, but he’s definitely sharing his thoughts, complaining even. This is unusually healthy behavior from Jason, to be honest. He usually bottles it all up and doesn’t say more than a few snide words out loud. Any insight into his feelings are usually given in thoughts, not dialogue. That said, it really shows how much Jason trusts Isabel with his emotions unlike anyone else, maybe even Roy.

The more I read with Isabel, the less I think she’s going to turn on Jason. I never believed that idea to begin with and I still don’t see it. She seems genuinely kind and loving. The only problem is that Jason isn’t as out of the game as he pretends to be and she’s going to be pretty upset with him when she finds out he lied, so I can’t see them lasting. I also still have a bet on that she’s going to die. I’m less confident in that prediction as I was before, but we’ll just have to see what happens.

So Isabel leaves the party because she has to work the next morning and we catch back up with Jason after the gala, getting into his fancy car with James/Wingman as his driver. We get the slightest little bit more of James identity reveal--more like clarification really. Wingman’s name isn’t James, or probably isn’t James, and Jason doesn’t know or care who he really is. Jason tells James that it doesn’t matter, that if he betrays him Jason will just kill him. And again this is just so reflective of Jason’s kind of apathetic view about how others think of him. He really just assumes people are thinking the worst of him, are going to betray him, so there’s no point getting worked up about it--if Wingman turns on him, Jason will be ready, it’s as simple as that. Jason has had too many people betray his trust for him to even care about trust at this point.

Now when it comes to Wingman, I am more and more convinced that James is Jason’s dad in a different body. I am like eighty percent certain now. James knows who Jason is and is loyal to him out of nowhere. James is concealing his true identity. James talks with a rougher accent and calls himself ‘a dope’, suggesting he’s just an average Gotham street thug. He hedges on his belief that Jason should have returned to Gotham, as if sympathetic to how much it bothers Jason to stay there. It just fits, in my opinion. I believe that in the experiments that Jason's dad was a part of when he was in prison, the same ones that created Solitary and mixed up his consciousness and memories with other inmates, Willis's mind was either fully or partially transferred to a different body as well and that is James. Wingman is either Willis’s mind in a different body, or a different person who got Jason’s dad’s memories. I also feel Jason’s Dad’s bat tattoo is going to come into play again somehow. We can only wait and see though.

So James drops Jason off at the docks where he has a freaking yacht ready too take him to the Iceburg Lounge. Suzie meets him there because she heard the Euro-Bloc 'coincidentally' got hit when Jason was in Paris, last issue. Remember that these guys were investors in Penguin’s criminal empire and the casino. Suzie seems to be on to Jason and expresses her concern once again about Jason getting her family involved in something shady that's going to screw them over when this whole thing was supposed to be them going straight. Jason promises her family is going to be okay, which is just inviting trouble. She says for some reason she trusts him, which just goes to show how much Jason inspires trust in people, even his former enemies. He gets on the yacht, and speeds off.

Okay, I know that Suzie had done some really messed up stuff in the past but like...I really like her and I hope her family doesn't get screwed by what is obviously going to happen with Penguin? I didn't like her character’s actions in the New 52 version of RHATO but I've really warmed to her and her sisters here. I really hope her relationship with Jason doesn't become soured after everything goes down, but it seems inevitable.

On the yacht, Jay does some reflection. I love how in-character Jason’s internal monologue is. I know that is an odd thing to be happy about, but sometimes I honestly wonder if the Jason I love is something I made up in my head and the canon doesn't actually support how I and many fans envision him--but it does! It does so much! This is all just so very right, how Jason understands himself but when an issue is painful, when it hurts to think about and he doesn't want to consider it, he just puts it out of his mind. He focuses on action and denies his his pain. Also, Jason acknowledging his growing friendships with his new teammates shows Jason's caring nature as well as his introverted and anxious side. He never means to adopt these people he finds himself with, but he just cannot help empathizing with them and coming to see them as 'his' people, no matter how much he tries to be distant. And yet he's afraid of them being hurt, or them hurting him. I love when Jason's personality is shown off like this!

On the way to the casino Jason is confronted by Essence, who wants to stop Jason from committing ‘petty revenge’ and falling to the dark side...or something. It's very vague what the hell her problem is. I guess she thinks Jason is just running around playing crime boss and that is inherently against the All-Caste code or something and she wants him to give it up but of course Jason doesn’t do what people want him to.

As they are talking, we get a little bit of a flashback showing their relationship, just a scene of them under a tree in All-Caste outfits when Jason was young and they kiss. It seems to me that she was the one who was into him for the most part and it’s both cute and sad that young Jason seemed so surprised by her affections. She still seems into him now, saying she doesn’t know whether she should kiss or kill him but Jason makes it clear he doesn’t have feelings for her anymore, not least of all because of the events in New 52 RHATO when Essence lied to and used Jason to instigate a confrontation with the Untitled which broke their truce so they could be destroyed. Remember that?

Basically they gear up to fight and Essence draws her freaking badass red swords and Jason draws his crowbar and katana and they face off in THE FUCKING ASTRAL DIMENSION, WHAT?! 

We get just...so much about the All-Caste here.

Essence was the heir to the All-Caste but she didn't want the job, she wanted to be a warrior, not a peaceful leader.

'All' refers to the ability to see the past, present and future. Ducra, it’s leader, is omniscient.

Jason is the only human to have ever learned their techniques and not gone insane.

When Jason met Ducra, she saw his past, present and future and hoped he could overcome his destiny.

Jason and Essence seem pretty evenly matched, despite her being an immortal empowered by the Well of Sins. So yeah, Jason is a badass.

In the Astral Plane at least, Essence’s sword can make a three-eyed demon oni-looking construct thing and they can both do crazy energy blasts and flames.

So...if omniscience is part of the All-Caste arts/abilities, does this mean Jason can see the future/past if he wants?! I mean maybe he doesn’t use it because he doesn’t want to go crazy, but still that’s freaking cool. Also, this could be another explanation to hand-wave various points when Jason was acting crazy and out of character in certain preboot issues. Previously the explanation was ‘Lazarus Pit madness’, but now we have yet another thing that could make Jason go mad. Like...Jason is really just doomed to be crazy from all sides, isn’t he?

And since when the hell can Jason go into the Astral Plane?! That's it, Jason needs to do more magic stuff! I need a team up with Constantine and Zatanna, stat! No, that terrible arc in Trinity when Jason got possessed by a demon doesn't count. It doesn't even make sense with this new information, and Bizzaro still had backwards-speak like before the reboot and was really irritating, instead his of cute baby-talk. Like clearly the writer of that issue never even read RHATO.

But anyway, the two continue their fight, Jason with his kickass glowing swords and Essence with her red ones in the crystalline Astral Plane. There are crystal looking formations everywhere and asian-style clouds and they float on nothing, it’s pretty cool. The colorist does an amazing job as always, and the art is awesome in this issue, much better than it has been in my opinion. Essence seems to have the upper hand when she suddenly stabs Jason through the chest! 

Is this the end for our hero?! Yeah naw.

It's revealed that Essence's sword is called the 'Blood Blade' and works kind of like Katana's cursed sword, it absorbs the soul of evil people it stabs--but if you stab someone innocent (or just not evil) your soul gets sucked in instead. And that is exactly what happens.

I don't think any of us were fooled into thinking Jason was actually going to die for even a moment. As it turned out Jason was playing her, pretending to be rusty at swordplay and the All-Caste magic and mad with revenge on Penguin (that last he didn't do the best job of being convincing, but she already thought the worst of him so it didn't really need much selling I guess.) He just wanted her to stab him with the blade so she would get sucked into it. I like that Jason's strategic ability is being shown off here, but I feel like stabbing him was her plan to begin with so I don't get why Jason needed to fight back at all? Eh, maybe she would have been suspicious if he just stood there and let her stab him.

So Essence is sucked into the sword because Jason isn't evil--surprise! Or not, I think it was pretty obvious Jason isn’t evil. He organized a charity in the first page of the issue for godssake!

Jason explains to Essence as she gets sucked into her sword that he isn't good or bad, he's “just practical as hell.” Which is just so freaking validating. Jason isn't evil, he isn't a bad person, in fact he is a good person with good intentions but you can't make the world a better place on good intentions alone. Sometimes you have to walk the line to get results and Jason draws that line further out than most, further out than Bruce, but his methods are necessary and they work and that's more than most can say.

I still don't know what the heck Essence's problem with Jason was, I guess she shares Bruce's terrible viewpoint, always believing the worst of our Jay, maybe she just had a grudge over Jason leaving the All-Caste, but at least this means my feelings from the beginning were probably intentional and not bad writing--those feelings being confusion as to what reason anyone could have to object to Jason's actions, because he wasn't doing anything wrong! All he did was lock up Penguin, when if he had been arrested for his crimes and not wiggled out of them with all his money, he would have been locked up anyway! His safe room was probably way nicer than a jail cell, to be honest.

So Jason takes Essence's sword and locks it up in his safe back at the Iceberg Lounge when who should appear but Penguin, back in black after having been released by Miguel last issue! It seems like Cobblpot has won Miguel to his side, probably by spinning some sob story that conveniently leaves out that he is a crime lord that uses his money to stay out of jail and oh, also he framed Jason's dad and tried to have Jason murdered and sent goons after him and was trafficking illegal weapons. Yeah, I bet he didn’t mention that part. Miguel is getting played, the poor kid. He’s too innocent.

Oh man, I really enjoyed this issue, there were so many parts when I was just like, "Yes! That is exactly what Jason would do!" and I'm not sure why I am so surprised when he acts in character, but I just am and pleasantly so. The art was also really great, I love with All-Caste stuff shows up because their aesthetic is just cool, and Pete Woods, the artist stepped it up. The fights were great, Jason’s faces looked a lot better than they have, he actually looks like a good looking twenty-something adult and not a snakey thug in most of the panels. Hopefully that trend continues. Also the colorist, I love this colorist, he does such a good job, kudos to Rex Lokus who really brought out Dexter Soy’s art too. I think his consistently really does help tie the run together even with the artist change.

Well, that’s it I'm excited to see the confrontation with Penguin and Miguel next issue and see where it goes! I think we get the Annual later this month? Or next month, that will also be awesome, and I’ll be here for it.

[butcanijustnot]

A Thousand and One Kisses (Shuri X F!Reader)

Author: Crystalline / @butcanijustnot

Fandom: Marvel - Black Panther

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Summary: You and Shuri are useless lesbians. That’s it. That’s the whole plot. It stated off as a platonic piece but I’m far too gay for that so it turned into romantic fluff.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings:  The GAYEST of fluff-pieces here.

Also I don’t speak Xhosa so I used translating software for my fic. If it’s off please let me know so I can change/fix it. Thanks!

It was supposed to be a routine mission. So routine, in fact, that Okoye felt completely safe bringing you, a simple Dora Milaje trainee, along for the ride. This was a big move for you, as up until this point you had just been doing combat training and guarding the princess of Wakanda. Not that that was a problem, it had allowed you to get close to and eventually become friends with Shuri herself. Of course, your friendship with the princess started the same way all good ‘friendships’ should.

With a kiss.

You were training. God, weren’t you always? You were learning the Dora art of stone, or in layman’s terms, you were learning how to stand really still and not show any emotions no matter what happens around you. This role was important to you and to Wakanda, and you so badly wanted to succeed. So far you had worked through every trial so far, through Okoye’s mocking and Nakia pulling faces at you (the king-consort acting like a hyperactive five-year-old was perhaps one of the weirder experiences in your life but none-the-less you worked through it.) That’s when Shuri walked in, focused on something in her beads, and Okoye asked her a fateful question.

“Shuri, we are training a new recruit. Can you think of anything to break her?”

Shuri looked up at us and strolled over, you watching out of the corner of your eyes. She looked you up and down for a second, then smirked, walked right up to you and pecked you on the cheek. Whether shock or embarrassment, you broke completely, bursting out laughing and doubling over.

“Y/N!” Okoye said, startled.

“I’m sorry!” You chuckled, shaking your head and taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I can do this.” You reassured her, getting back into position, but it didn’t last. Shuri kissed your cheek again and you fell apart, again.

“I can do this all day, ncinane Dora.” Shuri smirked, both a tease and a promise.

Over time it became somewhat of an unspoken tradition. You would be stationed in Shuri’s lab, because you were a trainee and Okoye was short of other things to do with you that were, well, safe, and when Shuri came in she would stride over to you, press a kiss to your cheek and continue what she was doing. This happened to matter what. She never forgot and company or lack there-of never stopped it. The first time she did it in front of her brother, you swear he almost astral projected out of his body right then and there.

“Shuri, that’s really not what the Dora are there for…” He tried to reason, but Shuri wasn’t having any of it. She placed her hands on her hips and playfully glared him down.

“She’s okay with it. Right, Y/N?” She said, gesturing at me. T’Challa looked at you with an expression of Oh Bast please help me, but what could you say, you didn’t really mind.

You nodded. “I’m fine with it. Really.”

Shuri pointed to you, then at her brother, who looked as if he was waiting for the gods above to swoop down and take him, then around the room whilst laughing like a hyena. “Ha! I told you! If you’re allowed to marry a wardog, then I’m allowed to kiss a Dora. It’s the rules.”

“Oh, this again! Come on!” The king whined, sounding uncharacteristically like a 17-year-old trying to get his parents permission to go out tonight.

Later that night you were guarding the lab alone. Everyone else had gone home but Shuri was still working, trying to improve yet another gadget once again. As a trainee Dora, you had to stay with the princess, protecting her at all times. The role was honorary, really, Shuri was more than capable of protecting herself, but it was still good insurance. Unfortunately, it meant you couldn’t retire until she did, and this woman was married to her work. Suddenly, she disappeared from the room for about ten minutes and came back with two bowls full of a rice curry. She moved some things and placed them down on the desk, then turned and beckoned you over. For a moment, you stayed glued to your spot.

“Come on, Okoye isn’t here, and I won’t tell, promise.” She said, taking a bite. You had to admit, it smelt amazing and you were hungry. You took a cautious step forward, expecting Okoye to jump out from behind a doorframe and yell ‘Ah ha! It was a test!’ but nothing happened.

You sat down across from the princess and took a bite. Somehow it tasted even better than it smelt. You groaned appreciatively, eat more and more like a pig. You didn’t remember your place or who you were in the presence of until a second later, and you rushed to stop before she giggled.

“Mood.” She said, smiling softly. You were confused but ultimately decided against questioning it.

There was a pause filled with silence. “So, tell me about yourself.” She finally said.

And you did. You told her everything, even things you’d never told anyone at all. You told her about being an orphan, about wanting to look after people, and about joining the royal guard to do just that. Shuri was easy to talk too, made things seem brighter, so you didn’t even notice how time flew by. She told you about life as a princess, about America and the rest of the world and everything she knew about. You enjoyed it a lot, but eventually her brother came to drag her kicking and screaming to bed. You were almost sad to be done with it.

Until Shuri did the same thing the next night. And the next. And the next.

You and Shuri got closer and closer over those late nights and everyday kisses. You found yourself feeling more and more for the princess. You wanted to spend all of your time with her, and though you were oblivious to it, she was falling for you too.

She had always been excited for you. Every award, every opportunity that came your way, all of it, until you told her about this mission. Sure, physically, she had smiled and told you she was happy for you, but you could tell she was hiding something under the surface. Sadness? At the time you were too happy to question it, but now…

Now you were hurt, and dreading telling her.

It was a simple mission, and you still managed to get shot. The words ran around in your head like a bad song. Sure, it was an arm wound and sure, you would almost certainly live and sure, nobody else had even noticed, too wrapped up in their own problems to pay any mind to you so really, how bad could it be but still, it hurt.

You didn’t even want anyone to know, bast knows what the consequences would be. This was the first time Okoye trusted you out in the field, what if she never lets you out of the palace again? What if she cuts you from the guard? This people were the only family you had, leaving them made you feel sick to your stomach and brought tears to your eyes. You were an idiot to get hurt, you knew that, and all you wanted right now was to leave and go to the lab. You wanted Shuri.

“We are about to arrive back at the palace. All injured Dora are to report to medical; the rest are requested by Okoye at the royal courtyard.” The pilot explained, monotoned. The plane jolted as we landed and almost immediately you were up. You covered the injury with a pile of clothing and bandages to hide it and followed the group off the plane.

You held your arm in close to your side, trying to convince yourself that you weren’t hurt that badly. You ushered the other warriors into the infirmary, but instead of following them down yourself, you turned when everyone else was gone and slipped away, making a beeline for the lab. Every fibre of your body screamed for you not too, this is crazy, but your pain-drunk mind was louder. Shuri, it screamed, you need to see Shuri.

The walk down to the lab was excruciating. Your arm stung and ached, no matter how much pressure you placed on it, but you smiled and tried to hide it as you walked past the two Dora stationed outside of the doors, silently hoping that they wouldn’t notice the blood dripping through your fingers and onto the floor.

You were glad to see that the lab was almost completely empty. It was quiet, with the exception of the bottom floor where, true to form, Shuri was bustling around, moving her projects between tables and tapping on holographic images on her beads. She was mumbling things to herself, and you wanted to call out to her and you wanted to call out to her and get her attention, but your voice was stuck in your throat, held captive by pain.

You descended the staircase, your head feeling lighter and lighter with every step. Shuri noticed you the moment you reached the bottom of the stairs and a huge smile broke onto her face.

“Y/N!” She squealed, dropping what she was doing and moving to hug you. She stopped about a metre away, and the smile fell off her face when she saw the blood pooling on your sleeve and your pained expression. “what happened?”

“I-” You try to respond, but at that moment your legs gave way underneath you and you fell. She ran forward, catching you but only just. You fell against her chest, and instinctively wrapped your arms around her, craving her warm embrace.

She moved to your side, helping you over to the sand table in the centre of the room. She lay you down slowly and carefully, her eyes scanning the wound with pursed lips.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She huffed, stitching up the wound in a little under a minute and wrapping it up in half the time. Sher was upset, you could tell, but when you tried to talk to her, all that came out was a soft groan. She grimaced.

“People tell me ‘Don’t worry, Y/N’s an adult, she can look after herself’ but I still worry and of course I’m right! You stay cooped up with me too long, and then when you do go outside, you come back like this! How could you be so irresponsible!?!?” She rambled, yelling less at you and more at the empty space around us.

“I didn’t mean to get hurt…” You whispered, finally pushing out a coherent sentence whilst staring up at the ceiling. Your words were scratchy and thin, and you felt tears beginning to swell in your eyes once again.

She shook her head, and when she looked at you again her eyes had softened. “I know you didn’t. Of course, you didn’t. I didn’t mean to yell at you, I just...” She paused, swallowed and continued. “I really care about you, Y/N, I don’t ever want to see you get hurt.” She murmured, her eyes flicking between you, your arm and the floor. “I love you.” She whispered, as soft and quiet as a night-time breeze.

You’re not proud of it, but you completely froze. Shuri loves me. Shuri is in love with me. The princess of Wakanda is in love with me. I love her. I love Shuri. We love eachother. That’s amazing. Shit, what do I do? You noticed her staring at you and that was able to snap you out of it. Shit, shit! Words, I need to say words!

“I love you too.” You blurted out, trying to sit up to face her. She moved to grasp your shoulders and gently push you back down with a half-glare, half surprised expression.

“No, no, no. You’re hurt. Stay down, Entle.” She said, semi-forcefully. You stopped fighting, transfixed by her and her beautiful face and that damn smile that lit up the room. You couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her lips.

Her lips felt and tasted better than you ever could have hoped. Sweet and soft and slightly chapped from where she had been chewing it in thought. You could have stayed there forever, drinking in her taste, but you pulled back after a second to look at her.

“Was that okay?” You asked, swallowing.

Her hand moved up from your shoulders to hold the sides of your face. “Get back here.” She whispered, pulling you in for another, longer kiss.

“Hey Shuri, have you seen- Oh.” Okoye nearly dropped her spear when she saw you two. slowly, her lips bent into a soft smile. “About damn time.”

[mountain-of-divine-fire]

Crystal spirits, and how i work with them

Disclaimer. this is all my personal experience and beliefs. though this post is educational, take from it only what you believe. my word isnt the authority and neither is any other blog post. 

In my experience with crystals throughout the years, ive learned many things about them. i hope this post will help yall out there, who are maybe beginners, or just curious on how some things work, or how others like to do things. 

This post does not list crystal correspondences.

This will be a bit rambly, but i hope you get what i mean~

Obtaining your friends

Couple of options for this, i would suggest going rock hounding in a local area. Bring your companions, water, and your tools.

Maybe youre in a place with slim pickings,like me. you can just buy some online or in person

Crystal shopping online seems more convenient since you can look everywhere for whatever you want, and get to compare prices.But physical crystal shops are great because you can tell by feel who wants to come home with you. 

honestly, i believe nothing happens to a crystal that it doesnt want to happen. and if it does, it will end up fixing it itself. If you get a crystal that doesnt feel right, you will know who to give it to.

Im in the crystal shop. Now what? Well, just take a look around! see what catches your eye.I like to have a very loose suggestion of a shopping list, but it usually gets thrown out the window. If you feel like you need to touch something, do it. (unless the shop says no touchy ofc). Some things will practically jump out at you and scream “TAKE ME WITH YOU”. If you dont find something that really yells at you, and you still want to bring something home, just find something pretty. 

 How crystal spirits work

This is mostly based on what ive experienced. this doesnt come from any specific belief , but it does align with how some people practice animism. 

(much like in steven universe,if i had to give an example,) Crystals pop out of the ground, knowing who they are and what they do.They may grow and change with their experiences, but mostly, they know what theyre about. They are given energy and life by the earth, and they do their job. 

Each crystal group, species, and individual type seem to have overarching personality traits and a group spirit. i think some folk call these “crystal devas” but im not entirely sure where that comes from and what that entails. also each vein, and individual piece, has their own spirit and personality, say, beryl and quartz are completely different. An amethyst and a rose quartz are both quartz, and therefore have a similar type of personality, but are different. Each amethyst also has its specific differences. A chevron would be different from a grape jelly. Two individuals broken off from the same cluster would be different but similar, and so would each half of a broken slab.

sometimes individuals have names, and sometimes they can be named by you. some like to work with each other, and some prefer to work alone. 

Each crystal has correspondences , but sometimes those general guidelines can be deviated from, simple because the individual just doesnt do that kind of thing. 

My crystal broke! what happens then? Well, now you have two friends to work with. Some folk like to keep one half and give the other to a friend, some keep both halves and glue them back together with super glue (i do this with show pieces), and some folk like to bury them and return them back to the earth. You dont have to get rid of your broken pieces if you dont feel like its time. The crystal will let you know

How crystal spirits communicate

Most of the time, unless youre just really closed off, you will just feel it. They usually speak in feelings. if one wants to come with you for the day, you will know. If one wants anything , youre gonna know it. Dont second guess yourself, and just do it on impulse, pretty much.

These spirits are from nature, and are usually not relatable to humans (theres exceptions to this, like lab made crystals, and carved skulls, more on that later.).  they can and will communicate in ways youre not familiar to, if you dont do spirit work.If a crystal tells you its name, like its TRUE name, you might not even be able to comprehend the words its throwing at you. dont try to decipher it, just let it be. also , try to keep true names secret unless they tell you otherwise. 

If you cant really feel what they try to communicate, you could also meditate. If they want to say anything at least. just get cozy and meditate as you usually would, once you get good and calm just hold a rock and sit with it for a bit. Usually this type of communication is more in detail, maybe fully formed thoughts and sentences, maybe images. Once i even got one that liked to speak through song lyrics!

If you cant do these, use a pendulum! Ask the pendulum where its yes is, and where its no is. (for me usually, non human or complex spirits like to go left and right for yes, and forward and back for no. for animal spirits and servitors, ive found usually they nod yes and shake no. not sure how plants respond just yet.)

Ask it some troubleshooting questions first like “are you an amethyst, are my eyes blue, do i live at XYZ” ect... 

A problem with pendulums is, if you try and use a crystal pendulum when working with any other spirit, the crystal itself may respond. Always ask if youre talking to the right entity.

What might a crystal communicate to me? It could be something as simple as “my name is  ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ “ or   “you like to smoke cleanse usually, but i would specifically like sunlight ”, or it could be advice about a situation that you need help with. 

Can these spirits be malevolent?  personally, no. i dont think so. though it can be a grey area. most nature spirits want nothing but the greater good for themselves, nature, and maybe even you, if youre a good person in its eyes. 

there are instances where a crystal could be “angry”, maybe because the way it was obtained, or that it holds some kind of curse/hex/negative energy (maybe just even being around something awful that happened). Usually cleansing a stone will help with this. And if it doesnt? Try and see if you can do anything for it. 

Be careful about crystal runes, as you can piss them off. ive made a few mistakes in my time working with them(and by a few i mean a LOT, its not fun), in general just dont be a dick, and dont ask for things youre not ready to know the answer to. always thank them for cooperating, and cleanse them after use. 

What are the effects of this? for me, it was like a terrible panic attack, i was suffocating, my heart was going nuts, it was so hot, and i was so dry mouthed. i have never had panic attacks that bad. Tried to use some quartz crystals to ground myself, since i knew it was an attack, and they broke in half in the middle. This is completely my fault. I got scared and locked my runes away because it told me something i wasnt ready for, the next time i busted them out (and i hadnt thanked or cleansed them since,) is when they decided to teach me that lesson.. i was new at magic and stupid. and im glad my first big mistake was with something this forgiving. You probably wont ever have to deal with something like this if youre generally respectful. please learn from my mistakes. 

As with any divination and spirit work, you need to take protective measures. when youre speaking to a crystal spirit, you may actually be talking with something else. and it could be negative. use your best judgement please. 

Whats up with cleansing/charging/ect..?

 a lot of folk like to fight over whether or not you need to charge, cleanse, and bless or whatever else you need to do to crystals. Personally,i do like to cleanse crystals after heavy use, spellwork, or when i first get them from a shop. just to get rid of residual negativity. 

Crystals can hold information, but as far as charging them, im not so convinced. crystals arent a sigil, or something you made yourself. it has its own energy from the earth and its spirit, and will work perfectly fine without any of that.  Only do what you feel is necessary 

If its fine without charging, then why cleanse?  other than getting rid of stored negative energy, its just a nice thing to do every once and a while. It sort of works like an offering. showing that you respect the entity and want to work together in a mutual relationship. if you keep up your end as a guardian, then it will help you. 

How do i use crystals in spellwork and every day life? 

well heres some ideas! 

carry some around in your pockets/bag/bra/whatever according to whoever wants to come with you , and crystal associations

Gridwork. make a crystal grid

In spell jars/bottles/satchets 

As a decoration in your house to give the space a certain mood, feeling, or help. 

In meditation, to give advice perhaps, but also to help you according to its correspondences 

In divination, as help. 

As vessels for spells, enchantments, servitors, and whatever else (always ask it first!!! im using a large quartz as an astral tether, and a smaller one to house a servitor) 

As a friend. ever heard of pet rocks? well this is just an aesthetic step up from that. 

in your plant pots, to help them grow and thrive (be careful about water solubility) 

Pain relief and healing (only do this in congruence with actual medical care! keep around a fluorite for sinus issues, but definitely take your cold medicine) 

Important notes~

 As with any spirit, treat your crystals with respect. especially since theyre gifts from the earth. Dont act like you own a crystal. Like a piece of the earth, we really dont own land either. You arent its master and it doesnt have to do what you say. when you buy a crystal, youre pretty much signing up to be its guardian, and adding it to your team. be good to the earth, and to your friends, and a crystal will be good to you. 

if you have suggestions on other ways to work with crystals, comment! I hope this post was informational and not a complete rambling mess. have fun working with your rocks, yall~. Post about crystal skulls coming soon.  

Admin Fifa~

[lazella]

Yugioh Infinity Stone AU: Discovery

I wrote more. You’re welcome. Original plot bunny came from @nightfurylover31

Yugi was very uncomfortable for the next week. He could see the orange stone somehow every day. It could be in his hand or pocket one moment, then gone, then back in his hand again. Yami said that the stone never left the floor of their soul room though meaning it’s most likely projecting itself from their shared mind. Not to mention that every time they switched control; the stone would cry out with power ripping energy through them. It had gotten to the point that they were avoiding switching at all possible to avoid the sensation. Deep down Yugi knew it bothered Yami greatly to not have control from time to time. So, he thought of a plan.

No way aibou.

“Come on! We can’t let a rock take control of our whole lives!”

But switch for the whole evening?

“We’ve done a whole day before. When I set you up on that date with Anzu.”

That was different aibou and I’m still mad at you for not telling what you were planning. That should have been your date.

Yugi blushed, “It wasn’t like that…”

Yami sighed, Aibou I do appreciate your kindness, but this is your body. I’m only borrowing it.  You shouldn’t have to give it up like that.

“Need I remind you that we are partners in this? And besides…I already told the others that you wanted a night out.”

Aibou what…

“Have fun! They’re waiting for you down in the shop!” Yugi then enacted the switch before Yami had a chance to protest again. It took all of his free will to drown out the roar of the stone as they switched. Once things calmed down, he could feel Yami’s confusion and panic at suddenly being in control. Eventually Yugi felt Yami’s acceptance at the situation and started making his way downstairs. Now that Yami was sufficiently distracted, Yugi sat down in the Soul Room hallway and stared at the stone, “Now then…let’s see what we can do about you.”

“So this rock destroyed a table?”

“In quite the lightshow Johan. I’ve been keeping it under wraps since then.” Judai said.

“And you thought I would be the best expert on this?” His good friend Johan asked.

“You’re the crystal guy.” Judai grinned. “And Yubel kept teasing me about how I needed and excuse to visit you.”

“You know you don’t need an excuse…you can just come over…” Johan sighed.

“But about this stone?” Judai asked.

“Right…I don’t think it has anything to do with my Crystal Beasts.” Johan said as he scratched Ruby Carbuncle on the head, “And Amethyst Cat is very insistent that it is not an amethyst.”

“So back to square one….” Judai sighed as he leaned back in his seat.

“Have you looked at it with Yubel’s vision yet?” Johan asked.

Judai’s head met table.

“Didn’t think of that?”

“No…and now Yubel is laughing at me.” He groaned, “In hindsight…should have been the first thing I tried…” Sitting up, he focused so that eyes switched to the green and orange of Yubel. What he saw was intense. The stone in normal vision was already glowing rather brightly, now with Yubel’s sight it was like looking directly at the sun! He wanted to look away, but the glow became more beautiful. Like he was looking into galaxies that unfolded more galaxies releasing hundreds of stars.

JUDAI! “JUDAI!”

The sensation of being shaken around snapped him back to reality. At first, he thought everything had gone dark, but a few blinks revealed that his eyes were getting used to the imbalance of light. Eventually he could see Johan and Yubel looking at him rather worryingly.

“What happened?” He asked

“I don’t know…you just kind of zoned out…” Johan asked.

I thought you were going to go blind…the stone started glowing brighter when you started looking at it.

Judai rubbed his head and eyes. “Not doing that again…Is there anyone else we could call and ask for their opinions?”

“The only person I can think off is Pegasus but even he might be warry about looking at this. He once told me he learned his lesson of seeking powers he never fully understood.” Johan admitted biting his thumb.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try…..do you have his number?

“Not since he retired.”

“Track him the old fashion way it is then.”

Yusei read over the calculations on his computer. The green stone was now safely encased in a testing lab allowing him and his colleagues to run tests on it. No one had an idea about what the stone was made out off and the only attempt to get a sample fried their machines. Yusei called a few other scientists for their thoughts and some were on their way over to check it out. In the mean time his own lab were running their own experiments. Currently the favorite thing to do was to leave old object by the stone and comeback later to find them repaired. This only happened when Yusei was in the lab though which lead to some humorous encounters of Yusei being dragged away mid conversation because someone wanted to try a new thing. They started with broken bricks, rulers, and pipes and about thirty minutes being close to Yusei and the stone caused them to repair themselves…as if time itself rewound.

They had moved onto more complex items recently like watches and small bits of machinery. Even the sample cutter that had been fried was found to have been in pristine condition the next morning. Many of the other lab members joked and laughed about what a discovery they had made and began discussing ways to implement this throughout the city to help with infrastructure but Yusei was just unnerved. He thought about the implications hard. Was this stone a byproduct of Z-One’s manipulations of the timeline? Or was this the source of the technology that Z-One used to travel to the past?

Yusei bit his lip and looked at the time. Nine in the evening…he should be wrapping up and heading home. Sighing he went to save his calculations when a voice cut in.

“Dr. Fudo…can I ask you something?”

Yusei looked up, it was another one of the scientists who worked here. A rather older gentleman.

“Sure…what do you need?” Yusei answered.

“I just…wanted to know if I could leave this here….” The other scientist held up his hands cupping what looked to be an old necklace, rather tarnished looking and a few bits had broken off.

“You want to leave it…by the stone?” Yusei looked on in amazement, “Why?”

“It…belonged to my daughter….I lost her in Zero Reverse.” The older scientist said with a few tears in his eyes, “It’s the only thing I have to remember her by….her whole home was…gone….When I heard the other boys mention how anything left by that stone got repaired I thought….Maybe I could save this memento….”

Yusei found himself blinking back a few tears as well, “You’re welcome too if you want…I can’t guarantee the results. We haven’t documented how long the effects last and if they remain if they leave the lab.”

“That’s fine…even if it gives me a few moments to see it brand new like the day I got it for her…that would be enough….thank you Doctor…” He placed the necklace in a dish and left it by the stone’s containment before leaving.

Yusei stood in silence for a bit. Maybe the stone wasn’t a sign of bad times…..maybe it could be a sign of hope.

Eliphas frown a bit looking at the stone in Yuma’s possession. “That stone had an ability to bring you here with just a mere thought?”

“It did…to be honest it was rather scary….” Yuma admitted, “I didn’t know what was happening.

“We were rather lucky it only brought us here…” Astral said, “Who knows what else its capable off.”

“May I?” Eliphas held out his hand.

Yuma nodded and handed the stone over. With in an instant he could feel the power radiating from it. The sheer shock nearly caused him to drop it. But he was able to sense something.

“This stone seems to be reaching out and connecting to other worlds.” Eliphas explained, “That’s why it was able to teleport you here.”

“Do you think it can do anything else?” Yuma asked.

“I’m not sure…but I am going to hand this back to you…” Eliphas said as he did so, “It’s starting to become painful for me to hold it.”

This alarmed Astral, “How do you know that it won’t hurt Yuma?”

“I feel fine!” Yuma protested.

“Considering he had not complained, and he held onto it for so long we can make another assumption that Yuma holds some sort of resistant to it.” Eliphas said, “But just in case...” A silver cuff formed in his hand with an indent big enough for the gem, “In theory this should prevent the stone from acting up from passing thoughts.”

“Thanks! I really would hate it if it activates when I’m sleeping.” Yuma placed the cuff on his right wrist and placed the gem in the indent.

“Thank you Eliphas.” Astral said.

“Please keep me informed about anything that happens involving that stone.”

“We will….” Yuma said as he turned his focus back to the stone, “Take us home please….”

The stone glowed and the two were gone.

Yuya laughed as he jumped from platform to platform. He was having a duel against Sawatari at LDS taking advantage of the larger space. Currently he was in the lead and Sawatari was…well…

“GET BACK HERE SAKAKI!!!!”

Was the usual Sawatari.

“Oh come on…..we’re just having a fun duel!”

Sawatari just declared an attack.

Yuya above you!

“Thanks Yuto!” Yuya jumped for the Action Card above him allowing him to negate the attack. A few moves later, Yuya gained an easy victory.

“That’s not fair! You’ve got three people helping you out!” Sawatari complained.

“They don’t help with strategies!” Yuya argued back

We do…Yuto chimed in.

We are technically one person.  Yuri added.

“Both of you stop it…” Reiji’s voice echoed out from over the intercom, “Make sure you get back down to the ground before I deactivate the field.”

Both boys complied, safety was important in Action Duels after all. Yuya smiled, the carnival themed field was fun to play on. The Action Cards were even hidden in the carnival games.

“Wish we could play on it a little longer.” He whispered as the field faded away.

The red stone in his pocket to this moment to shine brightly surprising Yuya and Sawatari. Then Reiji’s voice came back over the intercom.

“Yuya you better have an explanation for this.”

The arena behind Yuya was now an exact replica of the holographic field that was just up, only this time real and solid.

There was collective panic inside Yuya’s head.

Did we do that!?

No you idiot the stone did!

But we’ll still get blamed for it!

Yuya you need to fix it!

“I know! I know! Just give me a minute!” Yuya hollered looking at the stone. He made a wish before so maybe again.

“I wish for the area to turn back to normal….”

Again, red energy flashed out. The tents and the balloons retreated back into concrete pillars and platforms.

“Yuya….”

He flinched. Reiji’s voice was coming from behind him, not over the intercom.

“My lab pronto….we have to analyze that stone.”

“So what now?” Ai asked.

Yusaku looked over at the yellow gem which was now incased in a glass box. If he didn’t make physical contact with it, the headaches stayed away.

“There’s no record of such a thing in SOL Technologies’ database. I would disregard Knights of Hanoi, but it can be difficult to determine their skills considering the Tower of Hanoi.

“And this is nothing like what we have in Cyberse…” Ai mused, “Hey! Think we can ask Soulburner and Flame?”

“Takeru? Why him?”

“Second opinion, I guess. It’s not like we can hop into Link Vrains willy nilly with all those bounty hunters after you.”

Yusaku groaned a bit, he didn’t want to return to Link Vrains but with whoever attacked Jin…he had no choice if he wanted to track down the culprit.

The stone started flashing at the exact moment Yusaku thought about Jin. Too much of a coincidence he thought. Grabbing the container, he held the stone up to his eye level as the flashing became more intense.

SOMEONE SAVE ME!!!!!

Yusaku screamed in alarm dropping the container and falling out of his chair.

“Whoa Yusaku! You okay! You’re eyes got all glowy and…” Ai kept rambling on but Yusaku wasn’t listening. He grabbed the stone and his duel disk making Ai let out a surprised yelp.

“Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Ai asked.

“We’re tracking those bastards down.” Yusaku said getting into his log in terminal. He really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating but he swear he just heard Jin’s voice, and he was crying out for help.

[babywarg]

ironstrange fic: Star-Man

this fic is almost totally SFW, but in case it’s too much for tumblr's delicate sensibilities and i give it the vapors, i’ll be uploading it into my AO3 account soon.

also, taking the opportunity to announce that i have a twitter here: https://twitter.com/babywarg i'm sure this theme has been used in fic before, in a much better way...but i woke up this morning wanting to give mah boiz angst and would not be denied. title may or may not have been inspired by david bowie's song of the same name. that, plus the notion that people who go round in space age really, really slowly compared to us mere mortals. have you guys seen this uber-cute and uber-touching fan art by 黒雨? you really should. it may help set the tone for this fic. or not. but look at it anyway because it's uber-touching and uber-cute: https://twitter.com/blackrain_1019/status/1043466939480174592 many thanks once again to my wonderful beta @eclair <3 on to the dramu! ***

 Tony threw his arms out wide. "You wanted to see me, doc?"

The playful look on his face made it look like he was angling for a hug. But it wasn't a good time for hugs. Not right now.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began, "I'm going away for a while..."

Tony's arms fell to his side. A look of worry crossed his face.

"To where?" he asked. "How long?"

The questions sounded so innocent, they might as well have belonged to a 7-year-old boy who had no idea he was going to be abandoned by his parents. For good.

He almost seemed too young, too simple to understand what was going on - but those were words that had never before been used to describe Tony Stark.

"A long time," Stephen answered. "Something's come up. Can't we just leave it at that?"

Tony began to frown. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, can we? Or maybe you know me better than that, Steve."

Steve. The name was a dagger in Stephen's chest. He should never have let Tony know about it. No one had called him that in years, and whenever Tony did it, he only ever did it with complete awareness of how much it hurt.

"I do know you better than that. You deserve an explanation."

"Damn right I do. And you better give me a straight one. No tricks."

Stephen avoided the dare, looked around. "Maybe we should sit."

"Maybe right here is fine." The tone was cold. But still a good deal warmer than unforgiving.

Stephen sighed, and obliged. "Tony...there's a presence approaching the Earth. It's strong. Very strong. I haven't found a way to repel it. The only thing I've found is that..."

"What?" Tony interrupted. "That it's useless for you to look up how to defeat it on your own?" His voice became softer, almost pleading. "Dude, you're an Avenger now, remember? You're part of a team. That means you get people to pass some of the hard labor on to."

Stephen had to smile. Tony prided himself on being the fix-it guy. He liked being hands-on. Thrived on it.

It was Tony's familiar way of saying "let me help you." But Stephen couldn't afford to listen.

"As the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme," Stephen softly replied, "I'm afraid all of the hard labor is on me."

He proceeded to explain that the presence was a uni-dimensional entity, drawn to planets with vast reserves of psychic power - in short, planets with their own Sorcerers Supreme to defend them.

It fed off psychic energy, and when it was done with one planet, it became more powerful, so that the next planet on its path only had less of a chance to survive. Somehow it was able to detect which planets had a Sorcerer Supreme less able to withstand its assault. It had already left several planets completely destroyed on its aimless journey, each planet's Sorcerers Supreme powerless against it.

There was only one way to avoid it...

And that was to pretend that the Earth had NO Sorcerer Supreme.

"Simply put, the creature needs to think the Earth isn't worth bothering with." There was no time to delve into the intricacies of psychic hierarchies, the fact that there were records in magical tomes of this having been done successfully by other Sorcerers Supreme before, laws on unstoppable objects vs immovable forces not applying to preternatural opponents...and of course the futility of moving the Earth out of the creature's path, so he chose to leave those little details out. "While I'm gone, I'll make sure that the Earth will be enveloped in a deceptive shield - sort of a large flashing sign that says 'Nope, no Sorcerers here, not an astrally advanced enough species' so that the entity, whenever it gets here, will move on."

"You didn't answer me," Tony acidly interrupted, and Stephen froze. "Where are you going? How long will you be gone?

"Other worlds. Maybe other dimensions. Being away gives me less of a chance of being ferreted out. And 20 years." He shrugged. "Give or take."

He didn't quite expect Tony's tantrum afterwards. Or maybe he did. He just never thought it would affect him as much.

"20 years?" Tony yelled, close to his face. "20 fucking years, Stephen?!"

At least it wasn't "Steve." That way, Stephen could take the heat.

Tony paced back and forth, fuming.

"What did you expect to hear from me? Good luck, have fun, bring me back a souvenir? Take me with you? I can't believe it, you're just telling me this! You didn't even think of asking me before making such a huge decision, did you? About asking the other Avengers?"

"I have no time to brainstorm with you, or with the rest of the team," Stephen answered calmly. "The entity is coming tonight. I need to get this done now."

"Get 'this' done? What --"

Stephen stepped up to Tony.

Planted his palm gently on Tony's forehead.

Whispered into Tony's ear, "Hush."

There was a brief flash of light where their skin made contact.

And it was over.

Memory spells aren't reliable, the Ancient One had said to him. You can pick and choose the memories you want gone, but there's no assurance they'll STAY gone. You'll have to live with the consequences, Stephen, no matter what.

Tony staggered back. Seemed disoriented for a minute.

Then, his gaze refocused, and he spread his arms wide.

"You wanted to see me, doc?"

There was no playfulness in his voice, this time. Only curiosity.

He'd come because he was summoned. By the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme.

Not by Stephen. Or Steve. Not by anyone he knew more intimately.

Stephen had to fight for the pain to not to reach his face.

One year of fights, of trysts, of kisses, stolen or otherwise, of promises and curses and unspoken vows.

Of love.

Gone.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began again. His voice might have broken slightly, but he hadn't meant it to. "I'm going away for a while."

 ***

 Time moves differently across universes and worlds, and there's much a Sorcerer Supreme could do in 20 Earth years. There were new species to meet, new magic to learn, many new things to discover.

In the meantime, Stephen drew only enough power from the energies around him (not the dark dimension: never that) so that he never aged, never slowed down.

At any rate, it was always a temporary arrangement.

It was the entity's fault for moving too goddamn slowly. 20 years was the minimum wait time for it to pass. If the psychic energy-eating behemoth had been moving faster, it wouldn't be as hard for anyone.

As it stood, Stephen had to wait it out. He had no contact with anyone from Earth, no one who might betray his location to the creature, or compromise his resolve to stay away. This meant Wong, Christine...or Tony Stark.

And then if, after 20 years, he returned to find the Earth in pieces, he planned on using the Time Stone to look back at where things went wrong, then to go back in time, and use the knowledge he'd acquired in all his years away to fix it.

But! If nothing bad had happened to the earth while he was gone...then, well, Doctor Strange's gamble had paid off.

No one knew that he and Tony had a sort of relationship, so no one else's memory needed to be wiped. All he had to take care of was Tony - headstrong, shrewd Tony, who would defy logic and move heaven and earth to find Stephen and be with him again...potentially leaving the Earth unprotected as he went on his futile search.

- that is, if he even remembered what he needed to find Stephen for.

Stephen’s reasoning was this: If Tony's memories of their year together were dealt with, there would be no complications. The Earth would never lose its best defender. And upon his return, they would just be friends again, colleagues again, Avengers again.

Stephen's 20-year escape plan would be so very simple.

And yet...

There were times when he missed Tony so fiercely, that he contemplated visiting other dimensions, other realities, where Tony existed and he didn't. Where there was no Stephen for Tony to fall in love with. Or where they both existed, but were not in love, and would never be. Perhaps they would never even meet.

At the same time, he knew that visiting other dimensions was a risky thing, and there might be no way back for him...especially if he found a particular dimension where he wanted to stay.

There were times when small things he encountered on his journeys reminded him of Tony, and he had to steel himself to prevent his own memories from leaking out and buoying him back to Earth.

There were times when he wished...that when he finally did come home, Tony would remember.

And greet him with open arms. Obnoxiously strong embraces. Warm, fuzzy kisses. The brightest of laughs.

And a ton of stories and shared memories, "remember when"s that would bring a smile to his lips.

And forgiveness.

He often contemplated using the memory spell on himself, but he decided against it for a number of reasons.

One of them was that he deserved to suffer.

There should have been time for a proper goodbye. Then, maybe, being without Tony wouldn't hurt this much.

But it did, and it should.

The only way Tony would end up remembering their time together would be if Stephen's memory spell would fail. And he had worked hard at making sure it would not fail. He had erased every single private moment he and Tony had shared. He had only left the missions, the camaraderie, the mutual respect they had for each other as men of science, as soldiers.

No room for sentiment. No drawbacks.

No tricks.

 ***

 Approximately 20 years later, a Stephen Strange who looked and sounded exactly as he did when he left, braced himself, and opened a portal back to Earth.

And...

He came back to a technological marvel.

Stark Industries had become the world's leading source of scientific innovations - a world that left hardly any room in it for magic. Everything was efficient, streamlined, for a faster and less patient civilization. Shielded from the biggest psychic threat it had ever experienced, and protected by the Avengers and their affiliates from most physical dangers, the Earth experienced a new technological renaissance.

And in the front and center of it all was Tony.

He looked great, for the record. Salt-and-pepper hair and beard, wrinkles where there didn't used to be any, lean and strong-looking even with muscles less defined - but still, brown eyes that shone with intelligence, wonder, and an unquenchable inner light. Still with impeccable (if now old-fashioned) sense of style.

He greeted Stephen with a firm, hearty pat on the shoulders, like a compatriot would.

(This older Tony would never call him “Steve.” Would never push his buttons knowingly. Would never demand to be part of his life outside the battlefield.)

"Back like a star-man, hasn't aged a day," Tony quipped. "Welcome home, star-man."

Stephen only smiled.

He would have been happy to leave their first meeting at that. But back in his old and dutifully preserved Sanctum, he was surprised to find a pre-recorded message from Tony.

In it, Tony insisted on taking Stephen around, as soon as his schedule (Tony's, not Stephen's) permitted. So many things about the world had changed, Tony explained, and who better to keep the bewilderment at bay than one of the chief architects of this bright new future?

Stephen was about to refuse first thing in the morning - one of the mystic arts he'd mastered was, in fact, adapting to radically unfamiliar environments, so "bewilderment" was hardly ever an issue.

But before dawn of the next day, Tony had already parked a very flashy red hovercar in front of the large symbol on his Sanctum, and had woken him - and all the other residents of the Sanctum - up by knocking loudly on the glass and yelling like an attention-starved child.

The rest of the day was basically a joyride through high-tech New York and its environs, with hyper-verbal Tony gladly playing the role of tour guide. It was true, so much had changed - but not Tony.

Exploring a new reality with a deeply familiar Tony turned out to be pleasant.

It was - did he even dare think it? - very much like a date.

Tony all but physically bent over backwards trying to impress him, introducing new and upcoming inventions like a toddler showing off his toys, and how clever he was.

Stephen remembered when Tony used to do that almost every day. He couldn't help it: he still found it charming.

More than once, he caught Tony staring at his face. Whenever he did, Tony would draw attention off it by blurting out an idea or an interesting anecdote from the last 20 years.

And, more than once, Stephen thought he felt Tony standing a little too near, leaning a little too close to him.

He told himself: his own guilt must have been playing tricks on him. Tony didn't remember. He couldn't.

 ***

 The day ended late, with Stephen feeling exhausted. No doubt Tony did as well, because the two men stood on the Stark Tower (v.3.6) deck side by side, without saying a word.

It was like they both knew the hour of parting had come, but neither wanted to admit it.

Presently, Stephen took the reins. "I have to go, Tony."

From where he stood, he could feel Tony stiffen up in alarm.

"To where? How long?"

They were strange questions to ask, and Tony knew it. He dropped his flustered gaze.

"You mean the Sanctum. Of course. Well, it is kind of late, doc. Must be past your bedtime."

Stephen smiled.

"Past yours, too, old man," he couldn't resist shooting back.

Tony stayed silent, not looking at him. Stephen guessed this meant there was no offer of a hovercar ride back to the Sanctum. No matter.

He started to walk away, to a clearer space where he could set up a portal home - but Tony's hand shot out and caught the hem of his cloak.

He stopped. Looked back at Tony. Who still wasn't looking at him. Still wasn't letting go.

"Old man. Yeah, that's me." Tony's voice was so hushed, it was difficult to hear him. "Too old to suit up. Should've ditched all of my suits, or given them away to young blood, but I haven't. Sometimes I take one of them out and go off looking for something. Sometimes I end up finding trouble, but most of the time, I don't find anything at all."

He let go of the cloak, but Stephen didn't go anywhere. He stood, facing Tony, who was starting to seem agitated.

"And I don't know why I'm telling you this, except it feels like I've finally found what I've been looking for. All this time. All this time. And I can finally take off the suit now. Because that's it. I'm done. And..."

His voice broke.

His shoulders started to shake.

He hid his face with one hand, and folded an arm across his chest - folded into himself, in a desperate attempt to hide.

But Stephen didn't let him. Not after all this time.

He drew his arms around Tony. Held him close. As close as he should have held him last time. And all those other times they'd missed.

Tony buried his face in Stephen's shoulder. He let Tony break against him. Wave upon wave of grief and longing and regret crashed down upon them both. It felt to Stephen like standing in front of a storm, and he felt like breaking, too.

A quick, furtive look into Tony's mind said he didn't remember. Not a single detail of their lost year together.

But he didn't have to. The memories weren't stored in his mind.

They were in his aging body, his cells, the very fabric of his being.

As they were in Stephen's.

All this time.

When he had calmed down a bit, Tony stood back, still holding on to Stephen’s arms, and let out a small, bitter chuckle.

"I don't know why I'm asking you this. Think of it as a pathetic old geezer's wish." He looked up at Stephen's face. "But...stay. This time. Please. No tricks."

It was the look in his eyes that finally got to Stephen, reached in and tore him inside out.

He closed the distance between them again and planted a long, lingering kiss in Tony's hair before Tony could see the first tear fall.

"No tricks," he gently promised.

[katiekat1321]

The Master and The God (part 6)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

A/N: Someone asked me to start doing a short recap of the previous chapter before each chapter so in the previous chapter: You arrive in Asgard with Thor and Loki, where Loki is essentially put under house arrest in his room. Odin (surprisingly) allows you to stay under a few conditions and Frigga asks if she can train you in Seidr magic.

The first couple days in Asgard were interesting to say the least. The morning after your arrival you met with Frigga and figured out a training schedule. She also helped get you some new clothes made, similar to your own that you wore back in Kamar-Taj. You just couldn’t give up the bell-sleeves and hooded look.

When the training started you found it to be an interesting struggle. You learned quickly, considering you were the only Midgardian Frigga had ever taught Seidr magic to, but it was difficult to make sure you weren’t using dimensional energy to complete the tasks Frigga was trying to teach you. You found the Seidr magic to be more strenuous on yourself because it was pulling from your own energy or life force, but you figured that it was worth learning in case you were ever in a situation where you were unable to use the mystic arts.

After a week of training with Frigga you had built up a better resistance to the strain the Seidr magic was putting on you. “When you arrived here, your Seidr was very weak. Its glow was dim. But after just a over a week here it is already much stronger,” Frigga had explained to you as she paced in the small room you had been practicing in.  

“What does Loki’s Seidr look like?” you had asked in return. You were very curious, but unsure if you should mention Loki. You’d quickly taken notice to the emotions she radiated when he was brought up, there was so much love and pain.

“It is one of the strongest I’ve ever seen,” she replied, “It burns like the eternal flame, but he wastes its potential. He could do so much good, but he has barely tapped into its full strength.”

“It may be a blessing in disguise then,” you offered, “if he’s going to use his magic to harm others perhaps it’s better that he has been wasting his potential.”

She sat down next to you, eyes downcast. Her pain was palpable. “He was a good boy. I know all parents say that, but he really was. He was so kind and sweet, and then Odin forced him to compete against Thor for his love and approval.” Frigga had her hand tightly clasped together and they started to glow slightly, “I love Odin, but I can never forgive him for what he made my Loki become.”

You placed a hand on hers and the glowing ceased. “I want to be honest with you Frigga. Loki has done some awful stuff, but I don’t think he is a villain. He can still redeem himself. I have faith in him, and I guess I’ll find out if it is misguided faith at some point.”

Frigga smiled at you, “I’m glad he has you to believe in him, if no one else will.”

After your training with Frigga ended you were heading to go meet with Loki for what you were calling his ‘therapy session playdates’; a name he found unamusing at best. But on the way you passed Thor who asked you to train with him since the Warriors Three and Sif were busy trying to prevent a war in one of the realms you couldn’t recall the name of. He had been asking to train you since your arrival. He claimed he wanted you to be able to defend yourself if Loki tried to escape, of course he knew you were training in magic with his mother, but he assumed that it was a fruitless effort.

It’s still very early… you thought to yourself. I was about half an hour until the time you told Loki you would meet him, so rather than be early you decided to humor Thor. So, he led you to the palace courtyard for sparring. You set your cane down on the bench and felt it huff in annoyance as you walked over to a rack of weapons, choosing one similar to a naginata. He can’t know about you yet… you thought to the Staff of the Living Tribunal. Your staff was tired of being hidden and unused. Back at home, at Kamar-Taj you regularly trained with the Staff, it was used to being able to use its power much more regularly. I promise I’ll put you to use later, you thought to it before turning back to Thor.

“If this is the best you can do then I’m not sure meeting alone with Loki is a good idea Lady Y/n,” Thor said as he beat you a fourth time. You had made the decision to not use any powers in the fights to make it more fair for Thor. You knew he wasn’t going to use any lightning bolts on you, so you thought it was only right to not create any weapons with energy or cast any spells. “I can go easier on you, if you’d like.” Thor offered, but his pity only annoyed you.

Just do it, you know you want to… You could hear Loki thinking to you. You looked around and saw him sitting by the window sill up in his room. It over looked the courtyard you and Thor were practicing in. Lie and tell him you’ve been practicing with Mother and you’ve learned quickly.

I have been learning quickly, you argued back to him.

Loki chuckled, If you insist, but he wouldn’t know the difference between Seidr magic and whatever you do anyway. Just beat him. It was entertaining at first, watching you struggle, but now it’s just getting pathetic. Loki replied.

You pushed him from your thoughts and set the Naginata-looking blade back down. “Tired of losing already Lady Y/n?” Thor joked.

You shook you head. “Not exactly, I would like to try something,” you explained, “Your mother has been trying to train me in magic and I’m learning pretty well, at least that’s what she tells me. May I try fighting against your strength that way?”

“I don’t know that you will fair any better, but sure, let’s give it a shot,” Thor said with an amused smile.

You decided that it wasn’t actually lying if you did use some seidr magic as well, so you first materialized a dagger and shot it at Thor. It flew past his face, just missing him by millimeters. His eyes widened, realizing you actually knew what you were doing. Thor tried to charge at you, but you created clones of yourself using the mystic arts. Twenty of yourself surrounded him, at that moment you conjured swords in all of your clone’s hands. Then all the clones became transparent, becoming astral projections, and rejoining your actual form, the swords remaining where they were. You held both hands out in front of you and the swords closed in on his throat. Then you closed your fists and just as suddenly as they appeared, the swords turned to dust and fell to the ground.

Thor stayed where he was, too shocked to move. You looked up to Loki’s window, he was smirking. As soon as he noticed you looking he turned his back to the window. Hurry up, I don’t like to be kept waiting… Loki thought to you.

You rolled your eyes and held your hand out towards the bench you left your cane on. It flew into your open hand as you walked over to Thor and offered a hand to help him up. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No!” Thor insisted, “I am in perfect health. I’m just… I had no idea you were learning so well from the Allmother. You could be an Avenger Y/n.”

You laughed and patted his shoulder, “I don’t know about that, but thank you. I must go to meet Loki now. I don’t want to keep him waiting too long.” You had turned to walk back into the palace, Thor had insisted he was going to train more, when you paused and turned back to him. “Thor are you still concerned about me being alone with your brother?”

“Not anymore,” Thor said with a chuckle and with that you turned and left, heading to Loki’s room.

You entered Loki’s room and saw he was lying down, reading a book. This was how you found him every time you came to meet with him. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked him as you set your cane down, leaning it against the dresser by the door before plopping down on the edge his bed.

Loki didn’t even look up from his book. “I haven’t a clue as to what you are referring to… Oh, you mean your party tricks you’ve picked up? They were quite cute,” he said as he tried to push you off the bed with his knee.

You and Loki quickly developed this back and forth type of banter. You weren’t sure if he was flirting with you or not, but each time the thought crossed your mind you tried to ignore it. “Oh, party tricks? You wanna see them up close?”

That got Loki to glance at you finally. He tried to hide his amusement as he replied, “I’d be honored.”

As soon as the words left his mouth you froze him with Seidr magic and moved to sit closer to him. “Try to stay calm,” you said as you placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it for a moment before moving your hand to his forehead and sending him through a whirlwind of dimensions. You watched his facial expressions changed from confusion to panic as he flew through different dark dimensions, some were like kaleidoscopes and others that were just generally like an acid trip. After a few minutes you decided to bring Loki back to reality. You remember one of your first days at Kamar-Taj, when the Ancient One showed you these dimensions in this way, you had been gone for much longer, but you took pity on him.

When you brought Loki back into his body he shot upright and panted. His eyes screamed panic and shock, but he quickly recovered. “Okay, I will admit… your powers are formidable Lady Y/n.” Loki said, looking to you.

You were about to make a witty comment back to him when you realized how close you were sitting to him. It was cliché, even to you, but you really did freeze. You looked closer at Loki’s features, his deep blue eyes that pulled you in and his lips that looked so natural when pulled into a smirk. It finally all clicked in your mind, the pull you felt towards Loki all this time; the reason you didn’t step in sooner when Loki appeared on Earth to take the tesseract, you had liked watching him. You thought it was just intrigue, but now you realized it was desire, magnetism, you had feelings for Loki.

You were lost in thought, even freaking out a bit, until you finally heard Loki speak up. “Y/n… Y/n? Asgard to Y/n?” He blew a cloud of green smoke in your face and you shot up off the bed. You covered up the awkwardness of the moment by going to your cane.

“Sorry, I just remembered my staff wanted a chance to stretch it self out,” you said quickly as you tapped the cane on the ground twice and it transformed back into the staff. Its energy hummed happily as you stretched it out, letting the power crackle for a moment before whipping it once, being careful not to hit and break anything. “We can’t do too much, this isn’t the best place for you to work out all that pent-up energy,” you said to the staff.

You realized that you probably looked a little crazy for speaking to a stick, but when you looked over to check Loki’s reaction you realized he had gotten up and was standing beside you. “May I?” he asked, hand outstretched toward the staff. You bit your lip as you thought it over. Relics were very fickle things, especially the Staff of the Living Tribunal. Because it had chosen you it tended to do what you needed it to. It listened to you, but the Staff has had a history of being very troublesome with others. You gripped it tighter but didn’t feel any negative reaction from the staff, so you nodded and held it out to him.

“This is amazing,” Loki said after holding it for a moment, “I can feel the magic within it, but I can tell that it won’t allow me to access any of it. You’ve put quite the charm on it.”

“It’s no charm,” you said as the staff flew back to your waiting hand.

“Oh wonderful, it knows Mjolnir’s trick too,” Loki said, rolling his eyes.

You giggled a bit, but continued explaining, “relics choose who can wield them, this one has chosen me. And it has also chosen to not allow you to use it. Though I will say that I’ve watched people pick up the Staff and be blasted across the room, so you’re not a total loss.”

You tapped the staff twice and it turned back into your cane, though you could almost feel it groan in annoyance. You mentally apologized to it before moving to sit in Loki’s arm chair. “We’ve gotten to know each other a little better over the past week Loki… Now can you tell me more about what happened in New York?”

Loki walked back to the bed and sat down with a sigh, resting his head in his hands for a moment. “You already know the stories,” he said.

You looked at him with a bored expression. “I’ve heard plenty, yes. But I want to know your side of all this.”

He’s tried using that excuse before, “I’m not sure where to begin…” You could barely make out the muffled words as he said them. This was the closest he has come to confiding in you in a week of your odd meetings.

Loki opened his mouth to continue when a guard knocked on the door and peeked in. “I apologize Lady Y/n, Heimdall has urgently requested your presence.”

You groaned and looked at Loki, “Don’t think this conversation is over. I’ll be back later,” you said and got up, grabbing your cane, and walking out of the room.

**If you would like to be added to the tag list for this fic send me an ask! 

Tag List: @missaphrodite23 @sidemenaremylife @casuallyobsessivewitchcraft @alfoos @fiftyshadesofriri @dammitkatt @awkwardnesshabitat @fiery-feyre 

Part 7 -->